


Flawed

by shadoefax



Category: Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Background Character Death, Emotional, Flawed, Gen, Jedi, Minor Character Death, Sith, Strike Team, Violence, slight AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-01-11 14:32:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1174212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadoefax/pseuds/shadoefax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bastila Shan must lead a strike team of both Jedi and Republic soldiers to capture the Sith lord, Darth Revan. Should the team be victorious, the scales will ultimately tip to their favor. - Follows KotOR storyline. Ever so slightly AU. R&R and enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own KotOR, BioWare does.**

* * *

Revan.

A name recognised in many ways.

Renowned as the Revanchist.

Infamous as the Butcher.

Feared as Darth.

* * *

Bastila Shan was the first to walk briskly up the ramp of the large transport shuttle in docking bay 7. She took what was perhaps her last look around the docking bay of a Republic cruiser, nervously brushing back strands of brown hair that hung loose from her pigtails. She glanced around the dull grey metal walls that enclosed the docking bay. And the blue ray shields separating black space from the bay, humming with life.

Once inside the shuttle, Bastila took a seat behind the co-pilot who was preparing the shuttle for it's very,  _very_ dangerous flight. The remaining members of the strike team filed in one by one before the ramp closed and secured them inside. Like a door of a room shutting, closing off the light from the outside world and leaving everyone inside to suffer in the dark.

Bastila appeared composed as the shuttle made final preparations to lift off the Republic cruiser, however, inside she was a fluttering breeze full of doubts and hopes. Admiral Taron's forces had to provide a standing distraction to the the Sith fleet, long enough for her strike team to infiltrate the flagship. Otherwise their gamble was lost and the Republic, no,  _the galaxy_  would have to suffer the consequences dealt by Darth Revan. Formerly known as the Revanchist, the rogue Jedi inspiring many to follow and support his cause in the Mandalorian War. Now, an infamous Sith Lord who had fallen from the Light.

_Now a monster_.

Bastila did her best to release her hatred and fear into the force, but struggled. Her swirling thoughts of every evil deed Darth Revan had performed powered her black hate and dread towards him; towards the tyrant behind a mask that created an image of fear and mystery, once an image of hope and the greater good. Bastila's composure shattered as these feelings began to grow stronger. She scolded herself for feeling such blinding emotions. Everyone was counting on her to lead 43 Jedi and Republic soldiers directly to Darth Revan. She was a Jedi, and could not succumb to her fears! Especially now!

_But what if we-_ I  _fail,_  she thought.  _How can we possibly fight our way through his forces? There will be Dark Jedi, Sith soldiers, not to mention deadly droids..._

Suddenly, Bastila's mind was silenced by the feeling of warmth and comfort radiating from her fellow Jedi and second in command, Anyara. Anyara reached over from her seat and placed her hand on Bastila's slumped shoulder. "Bastila, we are to take off soon and are enroute for Revan's flagship." When she didn't receive a reply, she shook her shoulder gently. "Are you okay? I can sense your fear rolling of your very force signature. I understand how you could feel such emotions right now, but remember, we must keep a clear mind and focus on the task ahead."

Bastila let out a shaky breath, her chest shuddering. "I am fine, Anyara, I will...briefly meditate and connect with the Force."

Anyara had the strength to chuckle. "You honestly think you can attain a comfortable meditation position in a shuttle maneuvering around enemy fire, droids, and starships?"

"Well, no, of course not," sputtered Bastila, taken aback. "But-"

"Just take a moment, relax, and release your fear into the Force. You do not need a fancy meditation pose to be able to connect freely. Simply clear your mind, and let it all flow, then drift away. Immerse yourself in the calm."

Bastila glanced at her, nodded determinedly, and closed her eyes, clearing her mind of her doubts on the mission and the team. She instead embraced the calm essence of the Force, and let her mind drift, releasing the hatred and fear she felt. A few moments later she opened her eyes and met Anyara's yellow Cathar ones, glistening with a concern. Bastila simply smiled a small, hopeful smile in reply. She had successfully gained control of her emotions, for now. Letting out a sigh, Bastila tried to relax in her seat as best as she could, not wanting to ruin the newly found calm and peace she felt.

She was determined to become the greatest Jedi she could be, even if it meant pushing herself to the absolute limit, and make the Jedi Council proud. She knew that they thought her lack of control was her greatest weakness. That this  _flaw_  was holding her back from her training, from the Jedi Code. She was determined to prove them wrong.

* * *

_"The youngling...Bastila," said Master Vrook, gesturing to a young brown haired girl who was gritting her teeth and furrowing her eyebrows in determination. "She is too passionate! She basks in praise and sulks when things do not go her way! How can we properly train her unless she harnesses these emotions and learns not to immerse in them," he protested._

_"Bastila is only a youngling, she still has time to learn," replied Master Vandar._

_Masters Vandar and Vrook were watching Bastila and her sparring partner exchange blows during their lightsaber class. Bastila had chosen to utilize the double-bladed training saber, a rare choice for a Jedi youngling, and was battering her opponent's defense with it's use. Her opponent, a green skinned twi-lek youngling, was struggling to maintain his stance and regain his ground. Blow after blow he slowly began to crumble, his strokes becoming sloppy and he's arms quivering under impact each time he parried a blow. It was obvious he was tiring and beginning to panic, even though it was only a practise sparring match. Bastila meanwhile had a gleaming look in her harsh eyes, and the Masters felt the intense, unwavering confidence radiating off her as she continued to strike and subdue her opponent._

_"Did you feel it," hissed Vrook. Vandar only watched silently as Bastila continued to spar. His brows furrowed at what happened next._

_Suddenly, she performed a flurry of aggressive lightsaber strokes as she twirled her blades like a deadly baton of light, and finally struck her opponent on the side of his ribs. The The twi-lek let out a cry of pain and fell to the ground, though the training saber only stung him with a burn._ _Immediately extinguishing her training saber, Bastila set the saber staff aside and offered a hand to her fallen youngling, who hesitated to accept it. The look of victory and dominance was evident in Bastila's expression. Her mouth was upturned in a smirk._

_The lightsaber instructor, Master Tali, put his hand on Bastila's shoulder in approval, though frowning. He opened his mouth, then paused, as if he had been about to mention something but decided against it. Instead, Master Tali addressed the rest of the class. "All right younglings, it is time for a break. I think that many of you have well deserved it." Indeed they had, for many classmates were sweating and panting after two hours of saber practise. Bastila followed the rest of her class out of the gym, however, not before taken a moment to smile at her accomplishment and beam with pride._

* * *

Bastila let her body relax, and her mind settle it's awareness on the rest of the shuttle. She heard the whirring sound of control panels and boards, just starting up. The soft groan of the engine, coming out of wake for another flight. The loud, short clicks as the pilot flipped switches and pressed buttons. Twitching the corners of her mouth and her eyes, Bastila's mind finally settled on a disturbance in the Force. She frowned as she further explored it's boundaries, not being able to decipher what exactly it was. She could sense the source of the disturbance was located behind her, further into the shuttle. "I should address the strike team, before we launch," said Bastila, masking her suspicion with formality.

"Alright," said Anyara, looking uneasy, and she closely followed Bastila to the main hold where 41 other brave men and women were seated.

The door slid open to Anyara and Bastila, silencing the soldiers and Jedi who were talking. "If I may have your attention?" said Bastila, her voice full of authority. She could now sense the disturbance was indeed being produced from the main hold. She winced as she was hit with a mass of emotions swirling around like a storm that could not be calmed. Perhaps she could not remedy this storm, but she could change the elements and inspire hope instead of doubt. All eyes turned to her, and Bastila took a deep breath.

"As i'm sure you all know, I am Jedi Padawan Bastila Shan and the leader of this mission. All of you have been briefed on the mission and the plan." Bastila spoke in the strong and confident voice of a leader. "Under no circumstances are we to kill Darth Revan. Our purpose is to only subdue and capture him so that the Jedi Council can decide his fate.

The Jedi Padawan could slowly feel each person, each mind in the hold, become extinguished of their doubt and uncertainty of. She would only need a final push. "All thirty five of you have been selected, or have volunteered, for this mission, regardless of the great risks. I...cannot ensure that any of you will survive this mission. But, I can expect that all of you shall defend our good cause to your last dying breath, and give hope to the Republic and the galaxy. I am honoured to serve with you all on this mission. Remember that you fight for freedom, justice and peace." Bastila felt overwhelmed by the sheer confidence and appreciation flowing in waves from her, to her team and back through the Force.

"May the Force be with you." Bastila curtly nodded to her team with a hidden smile as they cheered to her speech, save a few of the Code-stricken Jedi, and left the main hold with Anyara. She only hoped the Force would have mercy on them as the pilot fired up the thrusters.

Bastila opened her comlink channel. "We're ready, Admiral, Masters."

_*_ "May the Force be with you, Padawan Shan." _*_

* * *

**Author's Note**

**so, this was my first fanfic. review and tell me what you think!**

***waves hand in front of screen* "you will type in the review box"**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: i do not own KotOR. KotOR is owned by it's respective owners.**

* * *

The transport shuttle rose smoothly into the never ending void of space, and once leaving the Republic cruiser, the pilot immediately took off in the direction of the Sith fleet. The plan was to use surrounding Republic fighters as cover to get closer to the front lines of the enemy fleet, where Darth Revan's flagship was located. Bastila had informed the pilot, a Republic soldier named Odis, to avoid all contact with the fighting if possible. Unfortunately, she knew that the chances of avoiding the above battle were slim.  _Extremely slim_. 

* * *

Anyara darted and twisted her head back and forth, constantly on the lookout for any opposing forces. Pointing at the far right of the cockpit window she cried to Odis, "Crossfire! Perform evasive manoeuvres!"

Bastila reached over to her right and hurriedly opened a channel on the ships communication systems, so her voice was projected in the main hold. "All members of the strike team, this is Bastila Shan speaking. We are now approaching crossfire! Fasten your seat belts! I repeat, fasten your seat belts!" She suddenly jerked backwards, her head smashing onto the seat's headrest, as the shuttle made a sharp veer to the left. Bastila briefly moaned in pain before she gasped, spotting several enemy star fighters heading straight towards them. "Incoming fighters!"

Odis, glanced ahead of space at Bastila's words and swore, seeing the group of enemy star ships about to hit them head on. "Frack! Hang on." He proceeded to then swerve the ship to the left and nose dive. Bastila was pushed back against her seat due to the sheer force and gravitational pull inside the shuttle. Then, suddenly, she jerked back harshly into her seat for the second time that flight as the pilot professionally brought the dive to a stop. The feeling of exhilaration from the steep dive was short-lived, but it was enough to make Bastila feel confounded and sick. She clenched the sides of her passenger seat and moaned at the burning sensation in her stomach. Now Bastila remembered why she hated flying so much, at least, when people like Odis were piloting. She sealed her lips and swallowed, desperate not to vomit all over the floor from motion sickness.

"Odis, don't ever...pull a...stunt...like..." Bastila took a moment to clutch her stomach. "Like that again...under...my command."

"Oh, sorry, does the Jedi not approve of me saving her and her team's skins?"

"Are you blind to the current situation me, and i'm sure many of my team members, are in?" Bastila demanded indignantly.

Odis stuttered, mentally slapping himself for making such a bold retort to his commander. "I-I didn't..."

"Bastila," interrupted Anyara. "Do you need my help healing?"

Bastila clenched her jaw stubbornly, though her face was deathly pale. "No, I can...heal myself, thank you."

Odis took a smooth turn to the left, finding a flight path that was empty of other vessels. "Alright, the coast is clear. For now, at least." He paused nervously. The cocky pilot he was a minute ago was long gone. "So...you okay, Commander?" said Odis with heavy caution, still scolding himself for his bold and stupid retort. He knew better than to get on a Jedi's bad side, especially one such as Bastila Shan.

Bastila ignored his words and recited the Jedi Code over and over, to calm herself so she could concentrate on her healing. The practice of reciting the Code was a much repeated drill that she had had to make use of several times, much more often than she would prefer. It was the Masters who had gotten her into this habit, in hopes of teaching her a Jedi's tranquillity and dedication to the Order. Instead, the Code acted as a lifeline she would grasp when she feared she was straying from the path of a Jedi. But the line was slowly drifting further away from her from it's old age and use, though Bastila did not suspect a thing.

Bastila could feel her queasiness gradually fade. During the minute recovery time, Odis wisely decided not to pull any more big stunts, only swerving left and right when needed. Bastila gave one last swallow and the sickness was gone, to her relief. Despite this, however, she still felt dizzy and disoriented, and so nearly missed perhaps the most important sight of the entire mission.

"Left...no, right!" Bastila corrected herself hastily, silently cursing her disoriented state in a very un-Jedi like manner. "Revan's flagship is on the right!" All in the cockpit glanced to their right and saw a massive Sith cruiser. It bore no decoration, but it was easy to differ the design from other ships in the Sith fleet. "Hurry, we must-ugh!" Bastila jerked in her seat as the shuttle suddenly shook, rocking back and forth. A few of the control panels on her right were fried and running off circuit. She shielded herself with the Force as stray sparks flew at her "What was that, Odis?"

"Stray laser bolt from the battle hit the right side. Shields are still holding at 97 percent," Bastila didn't need the Force to know Odis and his co-pilot were smirking. "It's gonna take a whole lot more to bring down this ship..." His voice died as he spotted a red Republic star fighter spiralling towards the cockpit with a damaged wing and thruster.

"Move out of the way! Move out of the way!" shouted Anyara with a tone of desperation Bastila had never heard before. The shuttle was not fast enough, however, to avoid the impact. The downed star fighter collided into the left of the shuttle, knocking it back and turning it upon force. Anyara took a moment to regain her ground and her voice, lost from shock.

"Odis...report," she croaked.

"Shields are now at 18 percent. One more hit and they'll will be down. The lateral thrusters have taken a slight hit on impact, but nothing major." He said his next words very carefully. "Oh, and our life support has, er, taken some critical damage."

"Well," Bastila muttered, "we never expected this flight to be easy, did we?"

A beeping noise interrupted the conversation and made everyone jolt in surprise. It was Bastila's comlink, having received a transmission. A voice could be heard from the other end. *"Padawan Shan? Padawan Shan? Can you read me?"*

Bastila pressed a button to answer the transmission. "Yes Admiral, I read you. We are cruising around Darth Revan's flagship, however our primary shields have been compromised as well as our life support. We don't have much time until we will all suffocate."

*"We have already begun penetrating Darth Revan's shields. It should only take a few minutes for us to break through. I suggest you get ready to fire on the hyperdrive, but  _keep low._ Another confrontation with another vessel and you might compromise the entire mission."*

Bastila grit her teeth. "Understood. Padawan Shan, out." Bastila turned off her comlink and turned to Odis. "Odis, cruise around the area.  _R_ _emain unseen._  Keep a clear distance from Revan's flagship. We don't want to get caught in a feedback explosion when Admiral Taron's forces puncture the shields. Once the shields are down, target and fire on the ship's hyperdrive, then thrusters. Then cut down the hanger bay shields and land us inside. Once we're in, we must fight our way through to Revan. Inform the others of the plan, and tell them to get ready for the battle. Am I clear?"

Odis turned around to face her, and she got a glimpse of red hair and grim green eyes. "Yes, Commander Shan."

Bastila nodded and afterwards kept a close eye on Odis' piloting, not wanting to repeat another encounter with anything, much less, a downed ship.

* * *

As the shuttle remained minutes longer in wait for the shield breach, the Jedi on board shuddered from the amount of dark energy emitting from the one ship; from the one person. Bastila's could not help but briefly let her fear take over. She cringed. "I cannot believe we must fight this evil," she muttered. "I can sense it. It is so strong. So...powerful." She trailed off, her voice with the slightest hint of admiration.

_No wonder why Revan has been able to cause so much havoc against the Jedi, even when our Order and the Republic are greater in numbers. He merely uses his sheer power and intelligence to vanquish our forces. My Battle Meditation combined with this raw power could-_

"Bastila." said Anyara sharply, though she too had a strange look in her eyes. "Snap," she shook her head. "Snap out of it. Can't you feel yourself being dragged closer to Revan? To his power? _T_ _o_   _the Dark Side?_ Remember the Code-"

For the first time in Bastila's life, her precious lifeline was out of reach. "Don't tell me to remember the Code!" she snarled. "What good is the Code to the galaxy? To the Jedi?"

"Bastila!" said Aryana for the second time, this time with indignity and anger. Bastila noticed this, and at once silenced, not wanting to further explore her short temper. Aryana shut her eyes, taking slow, deep breaths before speaking again. "Bastila, the Code is our way of life. It is what makes us true Jedi, not by following it strictly, but by understanding it. The Light Side of the Force can only ensure good through this way. Through this code.

"The Dark Side is called "Dark" for a reason, Bastila." Anyara put her arms on Bastila's shoulders and held her rooted to the floor. Bastila tried not to look into her fierce glare, and instead gazed out the cockpit window, her hard gray-blue eyes widening at the sight. It was a front seat view of exploding star fighters, flying laser bolts and massive war cruisers that only brought in more war,and more pain under the mercy of power. At that moment, she was reminded of the truth about the Dark Side - that no matter how tempting and good it may seem with all the power one could have, it could only cause more pain and destruction. It was the motive of all evil, and must be stopped. No matter how flawed she thought the Jedi were, Bastila knew that she would stand by the Jedi, as they stood by the Light.

Bastila lowered her head in shame at her violent outburst. Her dark bangs fell upon her eyes like a curtain. "I know, Anyara. You are right. I am sorry for my actions. I...It-it's just...the Dark Side is so strong in this place, at this time. I..I don't think I was myself then. I am so sorry," she finished lamely.

Anyara looked at her gravely. "I have six more years of experience than you, Bastila, and I am a fully fledged Knight. I know what I was talking about when I told you the importance of the Code. Anyone can recite the five lines of the mantra and follow them like rules, however, not many Jedi fully understand the true meaning of the Code." _  
_

Bastila looked up. "Can you teach me then? Can you show me the true meaning of the Jedi Code?"

"No. Only you can discover the true meaning of the Code, by ways of your interpretation, knowledge and experience."

Bastila only curved the corners of her mouth into a frown, frustrated with Anyara's cryptic answer.

Anyara held a hand, to signal she was not done talking. "However, I will warn you Bastila, that the path of a Jedi will never be easy, and you must have unity with the Force and the Code. The Dark Side will always be trying to tempt you; to lure you into its grasp. Never give in on this eternal fight, Bastila. Never let the Dark Side consume your mind with raw power and emotions."

"I know, Anyara...and thank you. I will remember your words. May they help me to stay on the right path," said Bastila quietly, with a sincerity in her tone that surprised even herself. Then she saw the large flare of light emit as Admiral Taron's missile made contact with Revan's flagship. A faint blue ripple ran across the surface of the ship, signifying the destruction of it's shields. Tearing herself from Anyara, Bastila yelled with her might. "Odis, fire!"

* * *

**Author's Note**

**i added odis from kotor 2, hehehheh...well, his storyline _does_  fit!**

**anyway, so, i'm continuing the oneshot into a short story on the approval of others :). as mentioned before, this will cover revan's capture.**

**i'm quite obsessed with bastila's flaws and her struggles to become the perfect jedi, often straying from composition in order to do what she thinks is right, and letting her emotions get the better of her. i will probably be writing further on this throughout the story.**

**maybe i'll chuck in some revan/bastila near the end, i dunno.**

**tell me what you think so far. good? bad? predictable? boring? leave a review!**

**warning: i won't be updating regularly, as i'm normally quite busy and get frequent writer's blocks. :P (sorry for the slight cliffhanger)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: i obviously don't own the awesome KotOR or it's franchise, Bioware does!**

* * *

Now, she thought, was the time to strike.

Odis gripped the steering wheel. "Hang on!'

Bastila hurried to her seat and strapped herself in, bracing herself for possibly another bumpy ride. The last time the pilot said those words she nearly emptied her breakfast, and she wasn't keen on having the same incident repeated.

Odis flew the shuttle towards Revan's flagship, weaving in and out enemy fighters. His flying was so coordinated and skillful, Bastila had to wonder whether the man was force sensitive. Once getting a clear view of the flagship, Odis flipped some switches and said to his co-pilot, "Route power the cannons, full charge. Target Revan's hyperdrive" The co-pilot complied, handling the orders efficiently and targeting the flagship's hyperdrive.

"Steady...fire!"

Odis' co-pilot complied, and the figures in the cockpit watched the flying missile with an unwavering tension of hope and suspense. The missile shot through space, directly into the hyperdrive of Revan's flagship. A satisfying explosion could be seen and Odis cheered. "KRIFF, YEAH! Take that, Revan! Odis is gonna bring your kriffing mask right down to the kriffing floor!"

Bastila resisted the urge to cover her ears from the insults, instead forcing herself to focus on more pressing and vital actions. "I'm manning the turrets," stated Bastila. She unstrapped herself from her seat with lightning speed and ran to the cockpit exit. "Some one needs to destroy the ship's primary thrusters. Anyara, inform the others we're about to board the flagship. Odis, take us down there. NOW!" Bastila barked orders to the others. It was almost time to perform the most dangerous part of the mission yet, and she had to keep focused as Anyara pointed out to her. Now was the moment of truth.

Bastila climbed up the ladder to the manual turrets, lunging for the rudders with her hands. Once inside the tight space of the turret room, she slipped into the seat and grasped the controls wildly. She shot randomly at enemy starfighters, at first, getting a feel of the firepower and controls. After that little round of target practise, she shouted over her comlink. "Odis, get in closer to the flagship. I need a clear shot of the thrusters!"

*"On it."*

Bastila felt the ship lurch forward and readied the controls when suddenly, she felt her throat constricting painfully and struggle to inhale air. Panicking, she realised the life support was failing and shouted through the Force. _No! Not now,_ she screamed. _Not now!_ Bastila's lungs were burning for air and she gagged and wheezed with struggle. She faintly heard Anyara's voice over her comlink, her head beginning to feel dangerously faint.

*"Bastila? Bastila! Forget the thrusters. Get the hell out of there! NOW!"*

She groped for the hatch handle that would lead her back to the main body of the shuttle. Holding in what little breath she had left, Bastila pulled the hatch door open with all her strength and scrambled for the cockpit, shutting the security doors that separated the cargo hold and turret rooms from the rest of the shuttle. Fortunately, there were no vital supplies stored in the hold and the other areas of the shuttle still had oxygen pumping through the vents. She returned to the cockpit where a very anxious Anyara stood, gasping for air.

"Oh, Force, Bastila! Are you alright?"

"The-the rest of the team. Are...are they alright?" Bastila shook with worry and shock. If they had all suffocated to death, the entire mission would be compromised, 41 lives taken in the process.

_Please let them be alive. Please..._

She was visibly relieved when Anyara nodded and opened her mouth. "Yes, they are. You must inform them our pilot is about to charge through the hangar bay doors. It will be quick; we have to get through the emergency blast doors before they activate. The ride may get bumpy."

A flicker of resentment ignited in the back of her mind at Anyara's commanding words. _She_ was supposed to be in charge of the mission, not Anyara. This was _Bastila's_ time to prove she could succeed in the important task given to her, not Anyara's.

_But Anyara is a Jedi Knight who has six more years of experience in skills and knowledge. What are you but a lowly Padawan? A child? The Jedi Council only chose you to lead the mission because of your battle meditation. Take that away and you're nothing to them. Absolutely nothing._

Bastila, massaging her still aching throat, furrowed her eyebrows at her loathing thoughts. She knew that it was the Dark Side that was influencing them. Or...was it? She could not help but feel that the thoughts ringed with truth. 

The Jedi Council _did_ only choose her because of her rare force ability of Battle Meditation. Of _course_ she was the perfect choice for the dangerous mission. With her battle meditation, she could boost the morale of her allies, raising their chances of succession. Of course they would choose _her_ to participate in the darkest battle. They thought that her rare ability could win everything for them, and so they utilized it as a powerful, dangerous tool; a tool with restrictions.

After all, Bastila was still just an ordinary Padawan, at the bottom of the Jedi Ranks, and with no sure signs of ever ascending. The Jedi Council had to watch her and her actions carefully, wary of the possibility she would suddenly lash out at the world with her potential power, should they give her the freedom and authority of a Jedi Master. The various masters she had been assigned to in the past were pleased with her progress, of course, but there was always something holding her back. Her tendency to be impulsive, for one thing.

It was only because of her rare battle meditation that they paid attention to and cared for her at all.

Bastila shrugged off the thoughts, for the time being, at least, and staggered towards the entrance to the main hold. She was still shell shocked from the ordeal in the turret room. Stopping at the door to the main hold, she hastily smoothed down the creases in her brown and beige bodysuit and brushed back her brown hair, making herself look at least slightly presentable. Bastila then pressed the button of the door, sliding it open for her to face the strike team. She waited until all in the room turned their heads to her.

"We are about to board Revan's flagship," she said, surveying their faces, memorising each of their expressions, their eyes. She knew that some, she would never again see. And she knew that only a faction of the Jedi and soldiers in this room would possibly survive the battle ahead, including herself.

Taking a second to steady her voice, Bastila continued. "This will be the most crucial part of our mission. We need every soldier and Jedi at their stations in order for our boarding to succeed.

"Firearms," a majority of heads tilted up at her words, giving them their full attention. "I need you to cover for everyone loading off the ramp. Station yourselves around the ramp base and inside the shuttle. Once everyone is out and fighting, spread to the right and left flanks and keep on the lookout for enemy attacks.

"All Jedi, keep to the front lines and rear and cut down the enemy by your means.

"Grenadiers, launch a new wave at each enemy attack we encounter, but do not engage with launchers in the middle of the battle. Proceed with launchers only at every new attack, otherwise, continue normal fire." Bastila's mind raced, searching for any flaws in her plan. Finding none, she reached for her double-bladed lightsaber, a small but vital action of preparation. "Keep in your seats until I raise the signal. Am I clear?"

There was a chorus of "Yes, Commander"s and a few murmured "Yeah"s. Bastila took this as enough of an affirmative answer and walked back to the cockpit. When she saw Anyara, the feeling of resentment came back to her, but she paid little attention to it, coming to the one, stable conclusion that she knew was true: that Anyara was her friend, and that she would never intentionally harm her in any way. Bastila twitched the corners of her mouth up into a brief smile, despite the circumstances. Anyara didn't notice, but Bastila did not mind; her smile had reached the one person it had been sent to reassure: herself.

"I suppose we have no choice but to forget about the primary thrusters. It is too late for that now," began Bastila. She opened the communications channel of the shuttle. "Everyone, strap yourselves in. We're going in through the hanger bay doors." She rushed to her seat. "Odis, breach the hangar bay shields and get us in there before the blast doors lock us out. It's all up to you right now."

Odis quivered slightly at all the pressure that was being placed upon his shoulders. "Alright, Shan."

Bastila was about to open her mouth to scoff him for his informal attitude, but she instead decided against it. Now was not the time to fuss over formality. The reality of the current situation at last, hit her. They were about to board Revan's flagship. Well, assuming they didn't get blasted into oblivion by enemy fighters in the process. The mission was just beginning.

"Glin, get ready to fire. Target the ship's hanger bay ray shields," Odis said to his co-pilot.

"Yes Sir."

As the cannons were recharging and Odis continued weaving through star fighters, Bastila felt herself uncontrollably shake under the influence of nerves. She found that the silence before the battle was always the most intense, nerve-racking part of war. Bastila had had her fair share of battles, but none of those could compare to what she felt now, minutes before the board. She would have to face the Darth Revan, the Sith lord who left a dark trail of destruction where ever he went. Not even her battle meditation had done much good so far in the war.

"Bastila, remember, we must focus. It's almost time," Anyara said.

Bastila regarded her words. She may be flawed, she thought. But so was Revan. And when those flaws appeared out in the open, she would strike.

* * *

When Bastila saw Glin fire the missile and the flagship's hangar bay shields go offline, she reached for the shuttle communications channel and spoke through the microphone. "Strike team, take positions for boarding Revan's flagship. We're going in."

Odis violently swung the shuttle downwards, towards the hangar bay. He narrowly swerved through flying laser bolts, missiles and starships. A foreign sense of adrenaline filled Bastila as she experienced the thrilling sensations of danger and flying; as a Jedi, it was rare for her to feel such exhilaration. The typical life of a Jedi was one lacking of excitement and thrill. Bastila may as well have been thrown into a different, unfamiliar universe.

As they edged closer, she inhaled sharply upon seeing the ship's hangar blast doors activate. But the speed they were going at was incredible. Bastila's head was thrown backwards and her cheeks jiggled with force. She held her breath in anticipation. They were going to make it before the doors closed, she was sure of it.

All of her hopes were dashed when the ship lurched and a small explosion erupted. Bastila gagged on the poisoning smell of smoke. "Odis?" she called.

He didn't straight away respond, his face set on their destination. "Just a few more metres, Commander! We're almost there," he muttered.

Glin shouted to him. "Shields are down at eight percent!"

"Life support?" asked Bastila.

"Still online at fifty-eight percent capacity."

Feeling somewhat slightly relieved, Bastila gripped her seat and struggled to keep her eyes open and alert. Within the next few seconds, they just managed to slip through the blast doors and enter the hangar, and for a moment, just a moment, Bastila's eyes lit up and she felt a pang of victory.

Suddenly, the shuttle skimmed through the hangar bay and she gasped as the ship flipped with a painful screeching of metal meeting metal. She felt her body defy gravity, limbs flailing as they were thrown into the air by force. Her blood rushed to her head and she identified the sharp, shrill noise that rang painfully in her ears as her own scream. Bastila desperately squeezed her eyes shut, wanting to block out the tumbling world from her mind, and after what felt like minutes, the world was at last still, and she had returned from the terrifying journey...or so she thought.

For the boarding had begun.

* * *

Anyara was already out of her seat, her indigo lightsaber ignited, and was pulling Bastila up when the barrage of enemy fire punctured the cockpit walls. Odis was hovering over Glin's unresponsive body, and Anyara had dispersed the strike team. Screams and battle cries could be heard echoing around the walls, accompanied with the loud, destructive sounds of explosions and blaster fire.

Bastila's head throbbed painfully as she staggered up and leaned on Anyara's arm. Everything was distorted. Her vision was blurry, and spots danced in front of her eyes. Her hearing was clouded, ears ringing with a dull pain.

Nothing was clear. Not the sounds she heard, the things she saw, nor the objects she touched.

She bent over and retched, though nothing was emptied from her stomach. She gasped, and choked, closing her hand around Anyara's wrist with a weak grip. "An...Anyara...help...me..."

And then she plummeted into darkness.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUUUUN! (mwahahahahahaahahaha)**

**anyway, as always, leave a comment, my lovely readers! so, now we're up to the boarding of revan's flagship! i admit, i'm not very experienced in this field of writing, that is, action scenes. so, ideas and advice are also appreciated!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: i don't own KotOR, BioWare does...but i wish i did**

* * *

_Whispered words had spread like wildfire among the padawans and knights. The famous Jedi, the Revanchist, was looking for more followers. A few Jedi were springing at the opportunity to accept him as their new leader, and master. The truth of the massacre of the Cathar people brought an amount of unrest between the Council and some Jedi. These few Jedi were compelled to engage in and end the war. They believed they would fight to save the galaxy from a threat. The Council believed it would only be a waste of time and energy._

_Bastila was torn in two._ _To her frustration, she felt a certain allure to join the Revanchists, a group driven by their hate for this war, and the desire to end it. But she knew that this rebellion was not the way of the Jedi, or the Council. And she also knew that her greatest goal was to become a Jedi Master, one of the highest ranks of the Jedi Order._

_The Council held high expectations for her, especially because of her famed Battle Meditation. She_ had _to side with the Jedi, or what would happen to her future? Her pride?._

 _So when the time came; when_ Revan _came, she hesitated._

* * *

Her eyes flickered open and surveyed their blurry surroundings. At last, their vision cleared and was met with blinding colours flying overhead. Bastila grunted and made to push herself up, but she was roughly shoved down again. She heard Anyara's voice shout, "Get down!" The Force came back to Bastila and with it she sensed the raw conflict that she was amidst.  _The boarding._  It whispered to her, awaking her.  _The boarding_.

With a gasp she shot up, much to the dissent of Anyara, who tried to shove her down again. Seeing her strike team spread out and occupied, she blinked out the tiredness from her eyes. Her hand flew to her belt and met...nothing. "Where is my lightsaber?" she demanded. When she didn't receive a reply, she panicked.  _Where is it? Where is it? WHERE IS IT?_  She  _couldn't_  have _lost her lightsaber!_  "Anyara, where in the galaxy is my lightsaber!"

As her eyes began to quickly scan the floor for a glint of metal, Bastila felt a cold, light-weight lump land on her thighs.

"It rolled under your seat. Don't lose it again," said Anyara. Anyara kept her eyes focused on the battle ahead, deflecting incoming blaster bolts with merely a wave of her hand and a blur of indigo.

Bastila sputtered. "I-I didn't  _lose_...oh, nevermind..." Seeing that there was no use reputing, Bastila ignited her yellow double blades and force leapt into the battle. The blades hummed with energy as they passed through the air. Bastila landed firmly on her feet, slicing an assault droid in half as she did. Then she charged.

The battle continued on, and Bastila was only aware of her lightsaber and her targets. She cut them all down with ferocity and speed, undefeated. She finished cutting down a squad of Sith droids, and was about to join Odis up ahead when her elbow joint suddenly stiffened, as if stuck in place with glue. The feeling coursed around her entire body until she found she couldn't move a muscle. A binding force was encasing her tightly on the spot. Someone was using the Force to stasis her, she realised with horror.

"The Dark Lord Revan will be most displeased with you attempting to board his flagship. " A Dark Jedi appeared in front of Bastila, a ready lightsaber hilt in her hand. Her sinister hood revealed only cold sickly yellow eyes, a sign of corruption by the Dark Side. "I suspect that after I kill you for the disturbance you've caused, he will reward me greatly." She ignited her blood-red lightsaber, and Bastila stood still frozen in stasis, unable to defend herself. The red saber was raised, aiming directly at Bastila's heart.

In all her life, Bastila Shan never thought that she would die like  _this_. Her death was supposed to be a noble one. One in which she fought back to her dying breath and fell with dignity. Here, she was frozen and restrained from even movement. Here, she was weak, defenseless, and vulnerable. _  
_

"Time to die, _Jedi_."

Bastila braced herself for the searing pain and the emptiness that was sure to come. Her senses dulled and she was aware of only her helpless position...

Out of nowhere, she heard a distinct hum of energy and saw a green lightsaber blade protruding out of the Dark Jedi's chest. She bent over and gasped in pain, before collapsing to the metal floors, dead. Bastila felt the stasis break, and she dropped to the floor upon release, breathless. She had been  _so close_  to dying a shameful death.  _So close_  to losing everything she striven for. She shifted her glance up to a tall, dark eyed Jedi whom Bastila recognised as Koren.

She breathed out a word of thanks.

"Can't have our Commander die on us today," Koren muttered with a hint of sarcasm. "Up you come. You've got a team to lead." He held out a hand, which Bastila took to pull herself up. Suddenly she felt so tired, and almost collapsed. Other than exhaustion, she had suffered a few cuts and bruises, a broken comlink and tangled hair from the battle. Bastila replenished her strength with a stamina package from her utility belt, and almost instantaneously felt as energetic as she could be. She simply could have used the Force to heal her, but now was not a good time to waste Force energy.

Bastila took a quick look around the remains of a victorious battle. It seemed that most of the strike team had survived, including Anyara and Odis. But death was everywhere in the hangar. Corpses were strewn on the floor, decorated with cauterized wounds and blaster marks. Bastila shuddered at the sight, because she knew - especially after her near-death experience - that there was only more of that to come.

Bastila nudged a deactivated droid with her foot as she passed, heading for the nearby computer terminal at the hangar exit. She shouted with the strongest voice she could manage, "Strike team! Rally to me!"

Anyara joined Bastila and spoke breathlessly. "You know, this was only the warm up battle." They both watched the remaining 39 people of their team run past them and regroup.

"I know."

"Then, Bastila, try  _not_  to charge head on into battles and wasting energy.  _Please_. You need to reserve what little you have for our confrontation with Revan."

Bastila gritted her teeth and brushed away strands of hair. She jogged to the computer terminal and downloaded the area schematics. After her eyes skimmed the information on her datapad, they averted to a group of four snipers. "You four, take out the wing surveillance within a hundred metres. We're taking the bridge through there."

"Yes, Commander."

Bastila looked to the others. "Everyone else, we'll follow and meet any resistance that Revan calls upon us."

She motioned Anyara and a few other Jedi to join her at the lead of the team. They advanced forward, and scurried silently to the wing. There was no doubt that more of Revan's forces were waiting for them, but Bastila did not see the reason to alarm them early. A few minutes passed by of tense silence, but for light footsteps and quiet erratic breathing. Bastila's eyes scanned the walls for enemies, but saw none. Another minute passed by and she decided it was too quiet...

She jumped when Anyara  _pst_  at her. "Bastila, were you even listening to me earlier, in the hangar? About what I said...I know it  _seems_  like-"

"Don't," hissed Bastila. "Please. Don't tell me what I should and shouldn't do."

"I was only trying to-"

"I have had enough of others controlling me! Telling me what I have to do and what is right and wrong!"

* * *

_"...Join us! Join the Revanchists! My followers and I stand for a noble cause: to support the Republic and win this war. I know that you all have been raised to believe that the Jedi Council knows what is right and wrong, but that is an idle excuse to stand by and watch evil take over the galaxy. We must eliminate the threat that lies in front of our eyes right h_ _ere, and now!" One would expect a voice to be muffled and inaudible behind the purple and magenta mask, but no, Revan's voice rang loud and clear. His words flowed with a sense of charisma and seduction that Bastila felt settle in her mind. It was drawing her towards him, much to her despise._

_He stood at the centre of the courtyard, visible in front of all Jedi that were stationed at the enclave, including the Dantooine council. The rest of the Revanchists stood behind, and his best friend Alek was at his side, brooding. Bastila was beside the council, hoping that she would pass by the Revanchists as just another code-stricken Jedi padawan, glued stuck to the council's decisions._

_"And so I ask again," continued Revan. "Will you join me?"_

_Silence, then..."I will!" A human female Jedi walked up. She was dressed in the simple brown robes of a padawan, her face framed with cropped dark blonde hair. "My informal master, Master Kavar, would_ never _have let innocents suffer, and do nothing about it. I, likewise, refuse to let this be brought upon the Republic." It was then that Bastila realised who the woman was._

_Meetra Surik._

_She had heard about her, mainly from the other padawans. Rumour had it that she could sever one's connection to the Force. The prospect of this frightened Bastila, for she knew that anything was possible with the will of the Force. The thought of one's power and harmony with the Force being stripped away was...overwhelming, especially if the victim were a Jedi. Bastila narrowed her eyes. Rumours or not, she felt uneasy towards Surik._

_As Surik shook Alek's hand and went to join the Revanchists, Bastila could fell Revan's eyes poring over her. The mask hid sight of where his eyes were truely focused, but she_ knew _. Bastila knew what would come next.  
_

_"Bastila Shan, the famed battle meditator" Revan said. Bastila suddenly felt all eyes turn to her and shifted uncomfortably. Revan paused, probably for dramatic effect, which nearly caused her to roll her eyes to heaven. "Join us, Bastila. Together, the Revanchists will be able to stop this war with your Battle Meditation! The Republic would be victorious!"_

_She took a step forward, eyes unwavering from Revan's mask. She could not restrain herself. Her battle meditation could help the Revanchists save lives in the war effort. She could_ end this war _. And then...she hesitated in her steps._

_"Bastila," hissed Master Dorak. She turned to face him with unsure eyes. "Don't. Do not defy the Council. You have much more training and potential ahead of you! Don't throw it away on some rebellion."_

_Her heart beat quickened, and she whipped her head back to Revan, who was waiting patiently, as if he was sure she would join his path. Bastila stood, frozen. The other masters looked at her expectantly. Ahead of her lay two life-changing paths. If she defied the Council, her life as a Jedi was over and done. She hadn't even finished her padawan training yet! How would she be able to become the best Jedi she could possibly be by joining the Revanchists?_

But the war effort needs you. The  _Republic_  needs you.

_Master Vrook tilted his chin up, upholding a sense of power and authority over the young, reckless padawan that stood in front of his eyes. "Bastila, come. Don't you dare join that fool, Revan."_

_And before she could stop herself, she said in a low voice, "I won't join the Revanchists, Revan." She walked back to the Council's side, and tried very hard to concentrate on the dead leaf fluttering in the wind. Anything to take the mind off of what she had done; defying her heart and obeying a group of old men._

_The Council always knows what's best..., she thought reluctantly, still staring at the leaf._

_Master Dorak smiled at her, but it didn't seem warm and bright at all. It was a smile of relief. "You did what was right, Bastila."_

_She paid a nervous glance to him, wondering whether she regretted the decision she had made._

You mean, _I did what you wanted_.

* * *

Anyara stared at Bastila blankly for a moment, then, with widened eyes, gasped. "Incoming grenade!"

Bastila cursed. She'd been too loud, and in doing so, had revealed their position. How could she had been so  _reckless and arrogant?_ "Scatter!"

The grenade flew in the air and Bastila quickly took cover with Anyara.

"Bastila! Do you hear yourself?" shouted Anyara over a loud explosion. "You make it sound like the Jedi don't care! Remember what I said about the Dark Side that lies in this place!"

Bastila shook her head. No, this wasn't the Dark Side, this was the harsh truth. "You don't understand, the Dark Side does not influence my words. The Jedi are holding me back because of my potential! The Council act like I am just a dangerous, restricted tool they need to keep a close eye on!" she retorted.

"The Jedi are only trying to help you and the galaxy!"

When the deadly sonic blast diminished, Bastila ignited her lightsaber and emerged. "I know, but it doesn't mean they aren't blind." And Bastila did know. However, her loathing feelings could not be ignored. They were always there in the back of her mind, dormant, and could break out at the slightest trigger like a torrent.

Anyara glanced at Bastila with...pity? "I'll-I"ll see you when the wave's over; if we both survive this."

Bastila nodded, and watched Anyara Force stasis a group of Sith troopers before engaging in the battle herself. Bastila stunned incoming assault droids and hurled another at a Sith trooper with the Force. The rest of the strike team were spread, covering all enemies whilst still making progress to the bridge.

After the droids were deactivated, Bastila occupied herself by joining Koren and two other Jedi, Jon and Laska, who were facing five Dark Jedi Acolytes.

"This should be fun," said Jon. He then charged forward with his blue lightsaber and hacked at one of the acolytes with surprising speed. Bastila and the others followed suit.

Bastila spun her blades at a charging dark acolyte, and he in turn tried to land an overhead cut. The surrounding battle becamse blurred lines, and only she and the dark acolyte existed. As they fought, Bastila studied the flow of movements between the two fighters. She recognised that the acolyte's technique was sloppy, but focused on his ferocious strength. He continued to place blow after blow, each off target or parried by Bastila. She could sense his strength weakening and returned with her own blows, targeting the weak defense of his single bladed lightsaber.

He clumsily brought his saber up to block, and the two enemies found themselves in a lightsaber lock. They held the tense position for seconds, none daring to back down. Bastila quivered under the pressure. She stepped forward to give her some more leverage. Then, with a desperate gasp, she brought her lightsaber down with all her might, breaking the blade lock and startling the acolyte. Then she leapt while striking from above. The acolyte easily parried the aerial attack and sneered. He turned, only to feel the burning pain of a lightsaber to the gut. The dark acolyte gasped sharply in pain and shock. He fell to the floor and curled his body around the wound. Then a cascade of screams came.

Bastila wiped sweat off her brow and pulled out her blade, only to raise it again. The acolyte was doomed to die. He had no strength to heal himself with the Dark Side. She adjusted her grip on her lightsaber hilt, hands sweating and slipping from the warm metal. She looked down at the person she now held so much power over, basked in adrenaline and success. She looked down in pity, and disgust.

The acolyte had extinguished his screaming, too weak to make a loud sound. He instead reduced to wheezing in pain. "Please...," he croaked from his bloody mouth.

Bastila stared into the man's yellow, sorrowful eyes. She shook with effort not to let her lightsaber sink into the man's neck. He was pleading for his life...what was she to do?

 _Maybe I can redeem him-WAIT, NO! This man is a_ Sith!  _The Sith_ must _be defeated in order for light to reign the galaxy. You cannot save him now, it is too late. This is just some Sith trick!_

What would a Jedi do? Bastila wasn't sure what the answer to that was.

With a deep breath, Bastila let her lightsaber blade fall and pierce the acolytes neck. It was a clean kill; no blood, no screams. But there was that nipping sense of guilt that Bastila felt, even though she had slain many Sith before with ease. It was undeniable.

This had been her own decision to kill the Sith, a Sith that had begged for their life. And for once, she did not embrace the prospect of choice.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**the FIRST time that Bastila loses her lightsaber under her seat ;).**

**ahem, right, so, this was my attempt at writing 'action'-something which i'm inexperienced at. however, i HAVE focused more on Bastila's angst in this chapter than the actual mission, and dwell deeper into her thoughts and mindset than other chapters.**

**as always, leave a review and tell me what you think!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: KotOR belongs to it's respective owners.**

* * *

Koren ran up to Bastila. "Commander, are you alright?"

She stared at him with sad eyes. "Let us finish the mission." She increased her speed with the Force and raced to battle three heavy Sith troopers. She cut them down with ease and a grim frown, the image of sorrowful yellow eyes still visible in her mind.

"Bastila!" she heard Koren call. "There's too many!"

She looked around and realised he was right. "Make sure I am not disturbed! I need to concentrate!"

Koren yelled back instinctively. "Yes Commander!" Then he paused, and raised a brow to her in confusion. "Hang on...what?"

Bastila didn't answer him. There was no time. She took cover and deactivated her lightsaber, placing it on the floor beside her crossed legs. She closed her eyes and let her hands come together in her lap. Bastila channelled her Force energy and spread her awareness around the battle. She willed her allies to feel courage, transferring her flicker of strength to them, and relighting the flames into a bonfire. She could feel them embracing the warm gesture that was easing into their minds. The strike team fought with a new fire in their eyes. They hacked ruthlessly and with ease, feeling the new-found strength in their minds. Bastila felt the enemy's resolve weaken as she continued to feed the strike team. Little by little the Sith's numbers lessened, drowning in defeat and fear of their enemy. The strike team were gaining ground, and then-

"Bastila!"

Her eyes shot open, and she gasped. She felt so tired, and so drained. She was faint from exhaustion from the battle meditation, and looked around with effort for who had called her name. She saw that only a few of the enemy were left, and felt relief at the strike teams sure chance of victory.

The familiar voice called her name again, and Bastila groggily turned her head to the source of the sound.

"Bastila, come on! Get out of there!" Anyara squinted her yellow cat-like eyes in frustration. After deciding she had had enough of a lack of response, Anyara ran forward and roughly grabbed Bastila by the waist.

Bastila barely had time to take in what was happening. She could feel her boot heels scrape the floor as she was being hurriedly dragged away. She was...so tired...

The arm that was draped around her came off, and Bastila was able to finally focus on the spot where she had been performing battle meditation a minute ago. That solitary and empty spot was no more. A tower of rubble lay there instead, the ceiling having collapsed upon blaster and grenade damage. Dust swirled everywhere and Anyara coughed and rubbed her irritated eyes.

Anyara panted. "Bastila, I thought I  _told_ you not to expend your energy."

The latter struggled to get up and retrieved her lightsaber from an open hand.

"But without you and your battle meditation, we would never have survived."

Bastila inwardly cringed. How many lives had she ultimately ended in those past minutes? The weak words still rang clear in her ears, like they were being spoken fresh out of a bloody mouth.

_"Please."_

Surprised, she felt a wet streak tear through the dust that powdered her face. Bastila blinked with watery eyes and fumbled for a medpac.

"Bastila, about when we talked earlier, before the battle, I never realised how you really felt about the Jedi-"

"No," she interrupted, "we have a mission. Revan  _must_  be defeated."

Anyara sighed at the interruption, but decided to go along with it. She sized Bastila up and grimaced. "Battle meditation is very taxing. You should stay back from the fighting. You've done enough for now. Let us push forward."

"No, they need me." Bastila injected the medpac into her shoulder, slightly gasping as she felt the stim-shots take effect.

"Have...have you been crying?" Anyara gently turned Bastila to face her and indeed saw tear tracks staining her cheeks. Was this a part of the turmoil in emotions she sensed in Bastila? The heavy burden of raw guilt and sadness?

Bastila sharply turned her face away and shakily spoke. "Darth Revan awaits us. I can sense a dark energy cumulating near."

"Bastila,  _what happened?_ "

She laughed like a madwoman and Anyara stared with worried eyes. "I have killed dozens of Sith on the battlefield, and yet, I have not felt a single spark of remorse! Because, I-I kept telling myself, 'the Sith are evil, and must be stopped at all costs'." She sniffled and clenched her fists.

"But-but you know what? When one of those  _animals_  grovelled at my feet, just seconds before I would bring down my blade... When I had complete and utter power over it's life... It pleaded, Anyara. It  _pleaded_." Bastila didn't cry, but there was a hurt in her eyes that looked sharper and more painful than a thousand daggers.

"What was I supposed to do?" she screamed. "The Jedi have raised me to believe in compassion, but I rued the Sith with my life! I-I had a choice to save him, to try and have some mercy. I already knew what my decision would ultimately be, but I was never prepared for his words!" Bastila faltered and wiped her eyes furiously. Every corrupted face she had slaughtered came back to her. All those whispers and screams came back to her...

"Bastila," cut in Anyara, "the Dark Side-"

"-I told you that the Dark Side does not influence my words. The truth does."

Anyara glanced over her shoulder. "The others are coming, and they're ready." She turned back to face Bastila. "Promise me that you'll hold out until this mission is finished. Stay true to the Code, and don't let this darkness overcome you. Like you said, Revan awaits us and we need our full focus. Do you understand?" said Anyara in a strong voice.

Bastila nodded grimly and brushed away sweaty strands of hair.

 _I can scream and do all that_ later _. People need me to be strong_ now _._

Bastila wiped the last of her tears away and took a moment to steady her whirling thoughts. Deciding she was confident enough, she called to the strike team-or what remaining members they had. She roughly counted about twenty members gathered around her, fifteen or so of which were Jedi. "Strike team! We are nearing the bridge where Darth Revan is located. We will fight head on using as much force as we can! Use any means necessary to defeat the enemy, but remember, we are to  _capture_ , not  _kill_  Darth Revan!"

They nodded. All were tired and breathless, but Bastila could feel that her battle meditation still lingered in the air. They were tired, but hopeful and determined. She had made them strong-no,  _stronger_.

Her mouth tugged upwards in approval.  _I helped create this_. Then, her eyes became downcast as she felt a small burst of pain and humiliation.  _I could strengthen my allies. I could give them hope. But I can't even strengthen myself._ _  
_

Forcefully looking ahead and hardening her eyes, Bastila jogged to the front lines where she would be leading the team, when Koren lightly touched her arm and grabbed her attention.

"What is it?" she demanded rather snappily.

"Less than ten minutes ago you performed battle meditation and nearly got crushed by a ceiling."

"And?"

"And so, i'm here to watch your back and  _protect you_."

Bastila frowned and waved him off. "I know that battle meditation is taxing, but I have enough stimulants to keep me going." She turned back around, refusing to face Koren.

He talked to her back. "All the stimulants in the galaxy couldn't remedy that tiredness of your mind."

Bastila closed her eyes and let out a deep, exhausted breath of defeat. "Alright,  _fine_." She motioned him to come forward, and then the strike team advanced deeper into the darkness.

* * *

As each wave of battle fell upon the team, they fought back effortlessly and continued on to the bridge. Bastila could feel them getting closer to Revan and surely his most skilled adversaries. They were so close, yet so far, as a chilling tremor through the Force hit Bastila.

She double checked the downloaded schematics of the ship. They were about to enter the Security Command Centre, just a hundred metres from the bridge. "It's almost time," she murmured.  _Time to face Revan..._

Suddenly, she flew backwards, thrown by some invisible force, and slammed harshly into the ground. Her breath was taken from her body from shock and she weakly pushed herself up. She heard the distinct hum of ignited lightsabers and voices scream her name, both tinged with fear and worry. Bastila blinked to right herself, and found a tall, masculine Dark Jedi standing over her, doming the black Sith robes of a fully fledged apprentice. He wore a feature-less black tinted faceplate, giving him the illusion of having no face; no identity.

With a surprising battle cry, Koren lashed at the Dark Jedi with his green lightsaber. The latter simply waved his hand and Force Stasis-ed him. Bastila eyed the action wearily and stood up, one hand hovering over the lightsaber clipped to her belt. "Who are you?"

"I am Darth Voren," the man said haughtily. "I am one of the Sith's greatest apprentices, loyal to the Sith Empire. You are in my master's way, and so, I will have the pleasure of slaughtering you." He plunged his lightsaber down and Bastila barely had enough time to get out of the way. She ignited her lightsaber and just managed to parry the second blow dealt by the opposing red lightsaber.

Bastila took the chance to scurry away and pull herself up when Voren stasis-ed the rest of her strike team. She contemplated each of their frozen, worried eyes, and felt a chill travel down her spine. Fixing her eyes back to the faceplate, she shuddered. Not only did the mask hide his identity, it also created an atmosphere of fear and forbiddance. Although she felt as if inside she were crumbling, her hands firmly held her double bladed lightsaber. _  
_

"This battle shall be between you and me."

Bastila gritted her teeth, swallowing her fear, and raised her saber. "You talk too much, Darth." This one Sith, she decided, she wouldn't mind wiping off the face of the galaxy. She threw her lightsaber in a deadly arc towards her opponent, to which he dodged and Force leapt to perform an aerial blow. Bastila dodged, and counterattacked. She jumped out of the way of Voren's force lightning, and prepared to erect a Force shield around herself when suddenly, her hand was caught by a coil of metal wire. The wire was a launched cable from some kind of mechanism in Voren's gauntlets. He began to slowly retract them, pulling Bastila closer. Closer towards the waiting red lightsaber that was in his other hand. As she struggled harder, the coil of wire tightened around her wrist. Another cable shot out, grabbing her hand and causing her feet to fall under her.

Her blue-grey eyes widened at what was happening. She was literally being dragged to her death. Her lightsaber fell out of her weak grasp, and the awkward position she was in disallowed her to use the Force.

She grunted and struggled harder, digging her heels into the ground and trying to right herself. Bastila's hand tensed as the palm fought the wound cable and faced Voren. Pouring all her strength into this one desperate action, she blasted Voren with a powerful Force push. He flew backwards with a yell of surprise and slammed into the back wall, retracting the blades from Bastila's body and lifting the stasis off her team.

"Strike team, attack!" she bellowed.

Anyara looked at Bastila with awe. "You heard the Commander!" She placed a Force aura on herself and Bastila, and they readied their sabers.

But Darth Voren refused to be easily beaten, and he used the Force to drain the life out his enemies. A faint orange glow travelled between him and his victims, pulsating with every ounce of energy and life it sucked from the deteriorating bodies.

Anyara narrowed her cat-like eyes and let out a feral snarl. She held the lightsaber in a threatening manner. "Let them go!"

Bastila did a double-take with her eyes. Was she really seeing  _Anyara_  on the edge of a fit of  _rage_?  _No, this can't be right...Anyara?_

Darth Voren merely continued his assault, seconds later, killing his victims. The orange glow diminished and Bastila could see his demeanour change to be stronger and more powerful than previously. She imagined that behind that tinted faceplate, he was smirking devilishly.

Anyara entered a Niman stance, her indigo lightsaber now upwards and back, away from her body. Bastila glanced at her, and placed Force Resistance around herself, a Force power that should negate the effects of the Dark Side. Voren called for reinforcements; to distract the other members of the strike team, keeping his focus on the two determined Jedi who stood before him.

Bastila mouthed, "Ready?". She was answered with a short, serious nod. They charged and began the battle.

The two Jedi moved with unbelievable synchronisation and grace, yet with also a tense ferocity and determination. They had fought together in many years more than long enough, and together, Bastila and Anyara were a fighting machine. Bastila's double bladed strikes delivered dangerous and simple, yet aggressive spins of her lightsaber, while Anyara's Niman form of combat combined various complicated lightsaber and Force techniques. Voren could only just barely block each attack with his lightsaber, his Force abilities temporarily drained and weakened. The battle continued on, and Bastila felt a surge of success as she felt the dark energy wane.

It wasn't long before Anyara disarmed the Sith and held her lightsaber high, quivering with adrenaline and still seething with rage. Even with Voren wearing a tinted faceplate, the fear and humilation he felt could be sensed easily through the Force, rolling off his dark Force signature in waves. Bastila stood a few metres back from Anyara and Voren, wary of what action either would do. There was a tense silence, both enemies unmoving and unsure.

Suddenly, Voren desperately made a lunge for Anyara with his gauntlets. She quickly overcame her shock and swiftly dodged, dark braided hair flying, and beheaded him with a grunt and a clean backhand slash of her lightsaber.

Without even glancing at their fallen enemy - now a headless corpse doming torn and burnt dark robes - Anyara jumped over to the remaining strike team members, who were busy battling the last remaining droids and Dark Jedi of Voren's reinforcements. Bastila merely stood and stared at the corpse. She was shaking, whether from adrenaline, shock or fear, she did not know.

Taking a calming breath, Bastila deactivated her lightsaber and healed the minor lightsaber burns on her arms with the Force, waiting for the team to regroup to her. Only about seven Sith droids remained, versus eleven Jedi and eight Republic soldiers.

Then that's when Bastila sensed it, as she glanced at Anyara. She shuddered at the heavy, foreign feeling that entered her mind. She realised that the Force was screaming to her in warning, an instinctive sense of danger setting into her. Then, before Bastila could comprehend what threat the Force was warning of, there was a final sound of heavy blaster fire.

She watched helplessly as Anyara stumbled back with shocked eyes and collapsed, bearing several large blaster bolts, straight through her gut. She weakly turned her head to the other Jedi as a plea for help, and Bastila found her legs moving of their own accord.

* * *

 **you guys know the drill...**   **={D**

**okay, hopefully the next chapter would be up much sooner than a month, cos it's only about 3 more weeks of school left before the long summer holidays, yay! see you until then.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Kotor belongs to its respective owners.**

* * *

_"Anyara!" Bastila panted as she ran, burning off every burst of energy to arrive at Anyara's side. "Anyara!" Bastila felt a little silly running to her friend's aid. She were only a fourteen year old Padawan, fresh out of the training rooms of the initiates, whereas Anyara was in her twenties, on the brink of beginning her Trials. Should_ Anyara  _be the one running to_ Bastila's _aid? Nevertheless, Bastila continued running, her worry and anxiety pounding through her mind. At last arriving to Anyara's side, she roughly shook the former's shoulder, as if waking them from sleep._

_To Bastila's relief, she heard a soft groan emit from the bruised and worn heap that lay in front of her. "Thank the Force, Anyara! You're alright!"_

_Anyara in reply chuckled. It was a tired sound, but also with a sense of giddiness. "I'm fine Bastila, I only took a tumble when the kath hound threw me off."_ _Anyara grunted in pain when she tried to pick herself up, eventually having to rely on Bastila to help her stand. "Kriff, I've sprained my ankle," she cursed, noticing how her right foot was painfully bent at an odd angle. Bastila winced at the sight and turned to watch Anyara fumbling for something packed into her utility belt._

_She sighed at Anyara's feeble finger work and snapped with impatience. "Oh, let me just drag you to the healers!" With that, she draped Anyara's arm over her shoulder, supporting her weight, and started towards the courtyard entrance of the enclave._

_A while later, Anyara was in and out of the healing halls and hobbled along on crutches and with a bandaged foot. 'Thank you, Bastila," she whispered._

* * *

"Anyara!" Bastila panted. Her legs, though sore, moved with surprising speed, and she arrived at Anyara's side in seconds. "Anyara," she said again, this time choking on her words. As she was closer she could clearly see the wounds dealt to Anyara's body, and knew that no amount of healing could repair the damage. "Anyara..." Bastila cursed when she searched her utility belt for anesthetics and found nothing. The Force could not even spare Anyara a painless death.

Anyara lay dying on the ground, surrounded by the smell of burnt flesh and raw blood. She was shaking and sweating, her breaths shortened and her face contorted in pain. Bastila passed a hand over Anyara's being, using the Force to at least calm her senses, and to let her know she was there beside her.

"Bastila," Anyara whispered weakly, "forget about me. Leave me here...Finish what we came here for." She took a wheezing breath and her eyelids fluttering closed. "You can't help me now, not like you have done before, in the past..."

Bastila could feel all her bottled feelings leaking, choosing to escape and overwhelm when she was at her weakest state of mind. Guilt, pain and sadness brought to her watery eyes. "So much has changed since then, hasn't it?"

"Yes. Then, we were both Padawans. Then, we had peace."

Looking up, Bastila saw Odis making his way to the two Jedi, "Commander! Commander. We must-" Odis sucked in a breath when he glanced further down and saw Anyara. "Shan," he said, dropping all formality. "Is-is she...?"

"Are there any Jedi Healers, Odis?"

"No, no. I-We've lost them to Voren."

Then there truly was no way to save Anyara. How could Bastila lose her friend like this? In a time where she needed her most?

Anyara grasped Bastila's hand, wincing in pain of the sudden movement. "Go, Bastila. Lead the others to Revan."

"I will," Bastila gasped. She could sense Anyara's Force signature fading as they spoke, and knew that she was facing her final moments. Feeling her life flickering, as if it could be blown out like a small lit candle, Bastila leaned forward and grasped Anyara's hand. She held it until she could no longer feel a pulse, hear haggard breaths, or see the movement of a weak chest rise or fall. Until she could no longer feel the Force flow through her friend's body.

And at that moment, Bastila wished she could join Anyara. As she lay there and shook, everything - every hardship and wrong - came crashing down on her shoulders, and she let out a cry of anguish. The thoughts taunted her in her head:  _Anyara is dead._ _My friend is dead. I'm all alone..._

It seemed like forever until Odis roughly grabbed Bastila's arm and hoisted her up. "Shan, the mission..."

Bastila wordlessly nodded and shakily stood, separating herself from the lifeless body that used to be her old friend. But she couldn't cry. Why couldn't she cry for her dead friend? That way her pain could at least have some finality, some closure. Perhaps, in a cruel sense, this was why the Jedi forbade attachments.

Bastila turned to Odis, her eyes shutting close.

"I can sense him," she whispered. "I can sense him, just down at the bridge." She fumbled with her lightsaber, her hands shaking, and she drew a deep breath. She had promised Anyara that she would be strong. She promised that she would block out all pain, all guilt and sadness. She promised that she would be a strong, capable Jedi.

_Whatever happened on this ship, stays on this ship._

"Odis," said Bastila, "you're second in command now. I need you to scout the air vents just left of the corridor - see if there are any weak spots or heavy security. I and the rest of our team will shut down the escape pods further down to ensure Revan can't escape. We'll meet and report back here."

He nodded and Bastila ran in the opposite direction from him.

* * *

They met back at the rendezvous point and Bastila's mind was whirling. "Odis," she called, "Any luck?"

"No, Shan."

She silently cursed. The plan she had in mind was foiled, and she grimly accepted the alternative. "The team will have to face the bridge head on, straight through the front doors. and side entrances."

He paused - most likely thinking of the fate of team, and the mission, Bastila thought. Then, "Shan, I wonder if today will be it."

She glanced at him. "Will be what?"

"The day I, after years of piloting in spectacular space battles, will die."

"I cannot guarantee you will survive this encounter..."

"I know."

Their short exchange of words strangely warmed Bastila's heart; just to know that she had the privilege to die alongside such a man - or a friend. Anyara's death, along with the deaths of so many others in the strike team, came back to her. She was fighting for her, Bastila realised, as well of the rest of the galaxy. Adrenaline rushed through her veins as she brought the remaining ten members of the strike team into formation and led them to halt just outside the smooth grey doors of bridge - the doors that separated them from Revan and his dark servants.

Here came a chance to turn the tide of this wretched war, and Bastila was going to take it.

* * *

It only took moments, just moments, before the Republic scout bypassed the door security. The doors slid open slowly, painfully. The only thing Bastila could hear was her heart pounding quickly. But she held her ground and kept her hands firm and strong around the grip of her double hilt lightsaber.

The blast door opened and Bastila and the other Jedi cringed. It was both terrifying and painful to sense Revan's Dark energy at such a close proximity, in such a crowded space.

The latter stood in the centre back of the bridge, near the view of the Sith armada. His elaborate robes cascaded down like a dark trail. Revan turned to face his new guests and the eye slits of his signature mask bore into Bastila. He had brought with him six Dark Jedi to be his primary guard- Masters, no doubt. Three each along the walkway, ready to pounce on their prey when given the command. An officer in a grey uniform stood beside Revan, most likely the second commanding personnel on board the flagship. The strike team, though larger in numbers, seemed helpless before Revan and his forces. They fed off the Dark Side, to which this bridge was like a shrine. Every Jedi in the room could feel the strength, the temptation. It was crushing them into sweet submission.

Knowing that they did not have much time, Bastila ignited her yellow double blades, and the other Jedi followed suit. The hum of lightsabers cut through the silence, and Bastila leant back into a defensive stance, determined and ready.

"Bastila Shan," greeted Revan, with a mocking tone in his muffled voice. "We meet again."

"Revan."

* * *

**short chapter, i know :P**

**we are nearing the end, my readers...**

**uhhhh, as soon as i can finish writing...**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: KotOR belongs to it's respective owners.**

* * *

He was still the same cocky, arrogant and charismatic man as Bastila encountered before, but yet, so different. No longer did he emit an aura of hope, instead of misery. Such change had befallen him and his image, that Bastila doubted that he was truly the same man that had gone beyond lengths to defend, and bring victory to, the Republic.

Bastila sensed Revan's eyes calmly calculating her team as she remained glued to the spot. He still had his mask on.

 _He hides behind it, in hopes it will frighten his enemies by merely looking at it - not wanting to confront his foes face-to-face,_  Bastila thought hotly.  _He's a coward._

Then, as if he had heard her thoughts, Revan raised a gloved hand to his mask. Bastila's eyebrows raised slightly in surprise and confusion. Odis, beside her, steadied his blaster, ready for some kind of ambush - expecting Revan's sudden action as a kind of distraction. But nothing. Nothing happened, but for the mask to be lifted off Revan's face, and discarded to a clip on his belt. Bastila's breath caught in her throat, and sensed the surprise of almost every Jedi in the room. And for the first time, she saw the face of her enemy.

She had anticipated a pair of sickly yellow eyes, beset on a cruel face withered with hatred. Her eyes instead met those of steely blue, and inside, Bastila could feel herself being drawn to Revan, as his voice had made her do so all those years back in the enclave courtyard.

_No, i must not let him have control!_

Bastila cleared her mind, and reopened it. She forced herself to look over the rest of Revan's features; pale skin contrasted with rugged jet black hair. A straight nose, slightly crooked - no doubt from a previous injury - , and high cheekbones, which gave him a regal look. And then, as she raised her eyes, she looked beyond his physical being, and saw his aura, the hate and pain at bay. It was like something snapped back into place. An unwanted feeling of rage built up inside her at the sight of this monster, this Sith.

"It's a shame, Bastila," Revan taunted. "The Sith could have used you for a great many useful means.  _I_  could have used you, during the Mandalorian Wars." His voice...it was deeper and clearer - even more seductive, in the absence of a confined mask. This frustrated Bastila. It made her want to give into her anger, to finish this, to finish him.

He continued. "I know you, Bastila. You have always struggled to be the perfect Jedi. You know too, deep down,  _their ways are wrong_. Join me, and you will become the woman you were  _meant_  to be, in all her power and glory."

Bastila's eyes cast downward and she shook. Now that she was here, seeing him, hearing him, she couldn't deny it any longer. Deep within her she longed for Revan, for the man that could have been so much more. To follow him, to serve under him, to share his wisdom and strength.

But no. That man she envisioned did not exist. He had died in battle, during the Mandalorian Wars.

 _Nothing will be resolved if I joined the Dark Side,_ she thought. Bastila did not come all this way, only to fall when the Jedi needed her most. And she would not break her promise. She remembered Anyara's wise words, on the shuttle during it's flight, and she called upon them, not to give her strength, but to give her a reminder.

_"The path of a Jedi will never be easy..._

_"...the Dark Side will always try to tempt you; to lure you in it's grasp..._

_"...never give in to this eternal fight."_

Tightening her grip on her lightsaber, she woke to a new light, and spoke strongly. "I am not so weak. You cannot entice me into joining you; joining the Dark Side, nor any of the men and women of my strike team. You cannot win, Revan." At this, she slipped into an offensive stance, her eyes warily flickering from one Dark Jedi to another.

Revan's dark brows furrowed slightly and his lips pressed together firmly. His head tilted to one side ever so slightly, as if he was disappointed with a young child."Like I said before." He said darkly, igniting his lightsaber - a dark, blood-red shade. "It's a shame."

He raised his open hand, slowly curling it into a fist, and Bastila's throat throbbed in pain, and her lungs turned to fire. On instinct, she dropped her only weapon and tried to pry away the invisible hands that were slowly and torturously tightening around her neck.

From behind Bastila, Koren threw his lightsaber in an arc at Revan, and the latter's Dark Jedi minions sprang to life.

* * *

Bastila felt Revan's Force grip on her loosen, and she willed herself to break free. She fell to the ground on all fours and retched. Her fingers flew to her throat, and she was horrified to feel large bruises wherever she lightly pressed the abused flesh. Someone - a Jedi - helped her up, as the rest of the team dispersed to battle. A cry of pain from behind Bastila brought her back to her senses, and she summoned her lightsaber to her open hand with the Force. She searched for the Sith Lord Revan, and found him merely speculating the bloody battle that took part before his eyes.

Disgusted, Bastila was about to lob a concussion grenade at the Sith before sensing a lightsaber traveling towards her. Instinct took over and she flipped and twisted in the air, before sending a force push to her attacker's way. Bastila scowled. They didn't have time for this. The plan was to quickly take down Revan's forces, and concuss him.

Of course, like most of Bastila's plans, they didn't always fold out as according to.

She stabbed her attacker in the chest, and spun wildly at another. She struggled to finish off her enemies quickly, battling her way to her ultimate goal. But Sith Masters did not easily yield. Bastila fought with all her energy, dodging, weaving, striking, but nothing hit. Then, at last, the Sith faltered, and she used the Force to grapple her opponent. She gritted her teeth, grunted as she swung her double blades. Bastila hit home, severing both the Sith's forearms. There is a gurgling sort of scream that came from it's mouth, and Bastila swung her lightsaber again, to put it out of it's misery.

Turning, she blocked an attack just in time, and almost doubled back from the blue-yellow tinged eyes that met hers. It was Revan, who had come to face blades with her. Bastila's breath quickened, and she found a burst of adrenaline. This was it, the mission now lay in her hands.  _Subdue and capture Revan, or die trying._

Revan was the first to strike. His red lightsaber brushed past Bastila's forearm as she dodged, wincing. He lashed at her again, before she could even recover, forcing her to step back. Bastila leapt over him to avoid another attack, but found herself being pulled back down. With a grunt of pain and surprise, she tumbled to the ground at Revan's feet. Damn his mastery of telekinesis.

She was quick to her feet, however, and kicked at his legs. He stepped back with ease, and Bastila used the opportunity to Force push him. Revan flew back and slammed into the cold metal walls. Bastila heard a sickening crack and a faint gasp of pain. Bastila stiffened and stared, slightly wondrous. She had scored, she had landed a blow on Revan! The feeling was short-lived however, as the latter glared at her from afar, cradling his broken arm, eyes blaring murderously. And then, like a change in the wind, they suddenly emptied. The Sith Lord stayed for seconds, and Bastila couldn't help feeling baffled and apart from the raging battle.

Then she saw the spark of realization in his steely eyes, and his head snap to to the view window of the bridge. Bastila continued to gaze at him, and though she couldn't hear his mouthed words, they rang clear and soft, as if a voice were whispering into her ear.

_No...Malak...Traitor._

She realised what was about to happened a second too late. Her senses, dulled, and the Force silent.

And so she merely stared at the distant stars as Malak's ship fired upon them. The ship shuddered and an abrupt explosion and display of lights, rubble and darkness came crashing down on her.

* * *

Bastila's eyes snapped open. She tried to lever herself up, when pain shot up her arm. With a feel more painful attempts to move it, she realised was broken.  _To match Revan's._ She reached for a medpac with her good arm and injected an anesthetic to dull the pain, wincing at the stinging sensation.

Everything was darkness and dust, save the red alert lights that shone upon the collapsed debris. Bastila willed herself to stand, wincing once more. She whipped her head for a glimpse of Revan's magenta and black robes, hoping that he too had survived Malak's fire. She ran, or rather, limped as fast as she could through the rubble, searching for anything, anyone; a sign of life. She stooped down at every body she came across, in hopes of not being the only survivor. But no. Bastila felt no pulse, no movement in the air...and she could not find Revan.

The ship shook again, and Bastila knew that she must take her leave, lest she die along her fallen team. The mission was a failure, and she would stumble back to the Dantooine enclave wounded and alone, and without a captive Revan. A tear tracked down her face, covered in dust and grime.  _It's too late_ , she told herself.  _What's done is done._

The bridge exit that connected straight was blocked in the path by a nasty piece of heavy rubble. Bastila instinctively went to her hip, and for the second time that mission, her hand met nothing.

Realizing that her lightsaber had been lost midst the heavy rubble of the ship, Bastila grumbled and stooped down to borrow one from a fallen Dark Jedi. Her eyes fell upon the corpse's face, and she saw the Sith she had battled through hell and back for. Eyes closed, he was still breathing, barely...

With a cry of both fear and relief, Bastila hurriedly dropped down to her knees, feeling the skin on Revan's forehead. It was icy cold, and clammy, but what caught her attention was the amount of blood oozing from his scalp. She cradled his head and searched deeper into the injury through the Force, to survey the damage not only to his physical being, but his mental too. He had taken a harsh blow to the temple, now a grotesque, swollen bruised lump. The skin of his scalp had cracked, and it was bleeding, but not heavily.

Now to see if any damage had been dealt to his mind...

Bastila drew a deep breath, closed her eyes, and let herself drift from her body and into Revan's mind. She passed easily through his damaged mental shields, and was greeted with a quiet, fragile mind. It was...too quiet. She was met with a void, a darkness that simply...existed. Not a trace of thought, memory or being. With horror, she realised that the surface of Revan's mind had simply been wiped clean, and it was beginning to crumble into nothing. His mind...it was seemingly damaged beyond repair. What use could Revan possibly be to the Council now? It may as well have been that he was dead.

And then, Bastila found a light, a single light amongst the void. It was small, hardly able to be seen or taken notice of. But it was there, bright and warm. A calmness washed over Bastila, and she gasped. It was no mere spark, she realised this as she approached closer. It was a harmonious song that danced with open arms. it was purity, clarity, and potential. Was this a part of Revan's soul? A goodness that had been buried and neglected under deep, black desires? The Force told her it was, and it was all she needed to know.

Revan  _would_  live. She would  _make_  him live.

* * *

Under normal circumstances, Bastila would've requested a master healer to do the job. But these were certainly and most definitely not normal circumstances. She would have to piece together whatever was left of Revan's mind, and hope the fragments held until she delivered him to the Jedi Council.

Bastila dived back into Revan's empty mind and began to slowly piece it together, to make a somewhat fragile picture. She opened the link further between their minds and transferred some of her strength and will into him, much resembling what she would do with her comrades during Battle Meditation. it was dangerous though, for this process to be done of such a direct level; Bastila had become one and open with Revan, even if it were for a split of a second. An act of such could damage the mind even further at the slightest trip, for it to be forever lost. It was necessary though, for Revan's sake. To finish the process, Bastila carefully and gently sealed the now strengthened fragments together, and at last, withdrew from Revan's mind, entering back into the physical world of the Force.

She almost immediantly slumped forward from exhaustion, but sheer will, and the thought of death hovering over, gave her the strength to stand.

 _Now, to find a way to escape this ship whilst dragging Revan's unconscious body. Perhaps removing some of his armour..._ Bastila's thoughts, however, were interrupted by a weak fit of coughing to her right. A man with red spiky hair rolled out from underneath the behind debris with a pained groan, and Bastila nearly cried out in joy. "Odis."

"Who...what?" he said groggily, then suddenly, his eyes widened, and he looked at his surrounding's with a wild fear. "Where the frack am I? Why-how...Who are you! Why the frack do I hurt all over and," he paused, as if just noticing the rubble and death around him. "What the kriff _happened_ here!"

Bastilá eyes softened and she felt a twinge of sadness. "It's alright, i'm a Jedi. You were serving on board this vessel and our ship has suffered extensive damage. I need you to help me carry this Jedi," she gestured to Revan, "to safety." She needn't not tell him the truth, now that his memory was gone. If his memory of recent events were truly gone, she couldn't trust him with any truths.

Odis looked skeptical, but he understood the dire situation at hand. "Alright, i'll help, but afterwards I want some fracking answers!"

* * *

Together, the two managed to carry Revan safely on board a transport shuttle Bastila had found surprisingly still functioning. It took a while for her to convince Odis to not stare at the many dead bodies that lay on the floor, and for her to brace against the pain of her broken arm. They finally made it into the cockpit of the shuttle after much struggle, where Odis quickly readied the spacecraft.

"Time to get off this piece of scrap metal, before it blows," he said, as he fired the thrusters. Odis steered the shuttle out of the hangar bay and into open space. It was only a minute later when Revan's flagship was blasted into oblivion. Bastila satisfactorily watched it do so.

Bastila lay down the unconscious Revan by her side, injecting a medpac that would replenish the body's physical strength. She stroked his hair subconsciously, wondering why she now felt so... _drawn_  to him. Not in an attracted way (Force forbid), or a comrade-like way, but she was drawn to him, nonetheless. It was as if she could sense him in her mind still, even though she had well withdrawn and brought up her mental shields.

Bastila forced her eyes to stay open as Odis flew past the debris of the space battle with remarkable ease. Parts of destroyed starships floated past them, like an newly formed asteroid field. She saw that Sith warships still remained, but they were now few in numbers, and the numbers lessened as one by one they retreated into hyperspace, being lost in the battle without the command of Revan. The Republic would soon emerge victorious, and the day would be done.

Bastila felt relief as she saw the distinct red and white Republic fleet ahead of them. She felt the stress and pain upon her shoulders lift off, and relaxed in her seat. Her breath slowed and muscles loosened. Her stubborn mind told her to stay conscious, but sleep refused to elude her. In the end, she closed her eyes, and let herself drift with her last thoughts.

_I've succeeded, and now Revan will be in the hands of the Council. Lives were lost today, and they were not in vain..._

* * *

**this was a longer chapter from me to you guys, to make up for how slack and uninspired i was with the last chapter.** _  
_

**don't forget to review! i heart those.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: KotOR belongs to its respective owners.**

* * *

_Darkness. It was all she saw, felt, heard, and it was all she was. She ventured further in, curious, but ever so slightly frightened of the silent warning that emitted. But something was beyond there, she sensed...she was not alone. She turned back and searched in the darkness. Was she being followed? She shook the idea off. No, she did not sense any danger or hostility, but_   _something..._ else.  _She spun back, grumbling in confusion, and almost flinched with shock at what sight lay before her eyes._

_it was space - she was in space. Where she stood, it was lit with a blinding white and silver. Her gaze drifted down, and she inched forward to grip the railing before her Smooth metallic walls enclosed her, forcing her attention to what lay far down below the railing. From above, massive troops in grey uniform and silver armour could be seen. An armada of large, sleek polished ships were docked ready and lines of droids marched in unison._

_Her eyes widened. "What is this place?"_

* * *

Master Vandar and Admiral Taron waited impatiently for Padawan Shan's transport arrive. The transmission they had received from the approaching Sith shuttle was surprising, nonetheless. And laced with luck. A minute longer of wait, and the shuttle would have been fired upon by the Republic Cruiser. Any surviving Sith from the battle must be eliminated of threat.

Included in the transmission, Shan's voice explained the news in three short words: three short words that carried so much hope and meaning in them "Revan has fallen." Master Vandar had fallen silent as the surround Republic soldiers had rejoiced, their voices filled with glee and relief.

"He's dead! That monster has finally been slain!"

"At last this war has ended..."

"I can finally  _kriffing_  return home to my family! Oh, boy, is my little man gonna be excited!"

Amidst the cheers and whoops Vandar pondered in the back corner, his thoughts straying far from the ship he was onboard. He stroked his chin with his clawed hand absent-mindedly. The Jedi Master knew the truth that rang in Bastila's words. Revan was not dead, at least, not yet. The Jedi Council would see to these final matters.

Standing here now behind the docking bay doors that separated him from open space, anxiety took the chance to gnaw at him, but he knew better, and blocked out the irritable emotion. He had faith in her, faith in the Force. That was enough.

The Admiral Taron stood by his side, posed and uniformed. "I dare hope that your Jedi Padawan is unharmed," he said grimly. "Taking on the Dark Lord herself, and no doubt losing many men on the way. No soldier could would emerge from that unscathed."

"The Force is strong in Padawan Shan. I am sure that any minor injuries taken were dealt with," Master Vandar replied.

"Don't be so sure. The mind is quite a fragile thing."

The short Jedi Master looked up at Taron's stoic face. "Do not forget we are Jedi, Admiral Taron. We all find our peace in the Code-"

Taron shifted. "-Forgive me, Master Jedi, but your Code...does it not have any flaws? To banish all emotion, alone, is a rather harsh and difficult act. All beings experience feelings - love, hurt, sadness, fear. Would you Jedi go so far as to distance yourself from others?"

"No, Admiral, we do not aim to distance ourself from others, but from the bonds that hold us down. We honour the laws, and the grace of life, which we see to protect."

"A very noble view," Taron commented. He looked away from the Jedi, so the latter could not see that the corners of his lips were upturned. He scoffed. It was so simple: the Jedi couldn't be trusted, or at the very least, they couldn't be relied on. The wrinkled old Masters lay snoring in the comforts of their sacred temples and enclaves. Devoid of feeling, having being brainwashed since they were children, the Jedi had allowed the Mandalorians to bring ruin to the galaxy and the Republic. Admiral Taron knew enough to tell that the Jedi were walking in a corrupt path.

But no one but a fool would say that out loud.

Before any of the two men could say another word, the docking bay loud speakers rang loud and clear. * _"Jedi Bastila Shan's shuttle has arrived in hangar two-six-eight-orange. Repeating: Jedi Bastila Shan's shuttle has arrived in hangar two-six-eight-orange. May all commanding persons and medics please report to the waiting area immediately, thank you."*_

"Level Orange," the Admiral muttered.

Noticing the undertone in his voice, Master Vandar glanced up. "Level Orange?"

"It's where we keep the heavily damaged ships that come in. The ones that pose a danger to our crew and it's passengers."

"Then we should hurry."

* * *

_"The Star Forge"_

_She turned, startled. She saw a man behind her and quickly withdrew. Why didn't she feel his presence earlier? Could he have been following her earlier? Who was he? And what was the "Star Forge"? The man in question towered over her, and wore a tight blood-red bodysuit. Mysterious blue tattoos lined his shaven head, and cruel sickly eyes glared down at the grey and silver troops. His mouth was a straight line, the tips pointing down. She saw the way he held himself. It was high and almighty, sick and sadistic, stretched and forced. It was as of the way of a warrior - no - a killer. A man with those eyes, and that stance, could only be a monster._

_Nevertheless, she approached him cautiously. "Who are you?"_

_The man didn't answer, just kept staring down below, head tilted with superiority. It was like...she wasn't even there. He could see her, couldn't he?_

_She jumped at the sound of a door sliding open, and the footsteps that echoed and bounced off the metallic walls. "Malak, I want you to take a look at this." A masked man donned in black and magenta robes appeared, carrying a datapad. Its screen emitted a bright blue-white that radiated and pulsed._

_Malak...was that the man's name? It sounded...familiar, but it was not the name of someone she knew very well. This newcomer, too, was familiar. There was something about the simple mask with the very angular patterns that made her nervous, and unstable with recognition. But how was this mask important to her?_

_'Malak' grumbled. "What is it?"_

_"Here, look - it's data."_

_She stepped back in confusion and took in the two men and stayed silent, with unanswered questions throbbing painfully in her mind. If they couldn't see or hear her then she could stand by and watch the two. Perhaps then, she would get some answers._

* * *

Master Vandar looked over to an unconscious Bastila, who was hauled over the shoulder of a red-headed man. Her skin was ghostly was pale, and covered in gouts of dried blood. Teams of medics and other first aid practitioners rushed around the hangar, and mechanics quickly got to work on stabilising Bastila's shuttle. Master Vandar interrupted a nearby, grave-looking young woman in a Medical uniform, who was typing furiously on a datapad.

"Excuse me," he said, "could you inform me on Padawan Shan's condition?"

The woman looked up from her datapad, an eyebrow raised. She whipped her head back and forth, but couldn't see anyone who might've called for her, and resumed to her typing. It wasn't until she felt something down below tug her plain robes, that she noticed the short Jedi Master looking up at her calmly. Naturally, she started, and a string of frantic words escaped her mouth. "O-oh, i'm sorry, Master Jedi! I didn't see..." The woman trailed off, and turned red with embarrassment.

Master Vandar continued to look up at her patiently as she regained her stern composure. "Padawan Shan?" he prompted her.

"Bastila Shan doesn't have any major stab or cut wounds as far as our scans can tell, however, her neural waves appear to have become completely unresponsive, although, they are fully capable of functioning." The woman stopped to look briefly at her datapad. "Our team is still determining exactly what state she is in. We can't expect her to wake up anytime soon."

"Thank you," Vandar said. He glanced back at Bastila, who was being carried away on a stretcher. Undoubtedly, this was no ordinary state of unconsciousness. it was possible that she was in a healing trance, as many Jedi naturally succumbed to in the midst of exhausting injuries. But, the Force that swirled around the young Padawan... it was in turmoil, and hot with rage and fear. No healing trance would emit such pressure. She couldn't be experiencing a vision. No way could her tired mind comprehend a vision that would produce such pressure in the Force.

So what was it? What exactly was happening to the young Padawan?

Vandar turned back to the woman, who eyed him shyly with green eyes. "What of the red-haired man, and his health?"

"He appears to be physically well, but has suffered some brain damage and amnesia. I'm afraid he has lost all recollection of events in the past five to six months."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. He believes to have been serving onboard Revan's ship under the guise of the Republic, and that the "hot Jedi girl" told him this shortly after he was uncovered from the rubble."

The Jedi Master wasn't even slightly fazed. "Rubble?" he asked.

"It would seem that Revan's ship was under attack during Bastila Shan's infiltration, and this is what caused the entire bridge to collapse." She spoke her next words rather sternly. "We have also discovered a dark-haired man whose identity has yet to be confirmed, struck in a similar condition to Padawan Shan. It's been confirmed there are no other survivors besides the three."

"Hm," he pondered. No wonder why Bastila's aura was disturbed; many of her close comrades were part of the strike team. Such loss would have greatly affected any Jedi. Suddenly, his ears pricked. 'A dark-haired man, you say?"

"Yes. He appears to be around his early thirties. Tall and well-toned; he looks fit to be a soldier, beside some severe damage to the head, as far as our scans could tell."

 _Damage to the head._ Could this affect the Council's plans? Perhaps...no, the Council would request for Revan to be brought directly to the Halls of Healing. They should further examine him there...

"Thank you," he said again to the woman, before walking off to the hangar exit. Only one thought rang clear in his mind: he must contact the High Council immediately.

* * *

_Malak made an exasperated noise that was a mix between a grunt and a sigh. "I can see very well that it's data, Master. You are holding a datapad."_

_'Master'? Her eyes immediately tore from Malak to the masked man. If he was the former's master, did that mean he taught him how to fight? How to kill?_

_"Don't get too cocky, Malak, and there's no need to use formal terms with such strain in our conversation," the masked man said calmly._

_The impression she got off this man was one of strength, composure and wisdom, whereas the same could not be said for Malak, who appeared twisted, weak, and foolish. It was no surprise that the masked, dark-clothed man should be the stronger of the two._

_"Alright,_ Revan _. So what's this data you have?" Malak's tone was snappish, and impatient. She was liking the man less and less..._

 _Hang on! 'Revan'. She_ knew _that name. She remembered that name. That name belonged to a great hero; a man who aimed to save the galaxy and vanquish evil. The happiness she felt jolted her, and made her fingertips feel like sparks. And then she tore herself from the warmth, and looked back at the masked man bearing the name 'Revan' now. Her brows furrowed. Was this man a hero? Perhaps, if she continued to listen..._

_"Yes, it is," Revan said. "In fact, i've come to the conclusion of something very interesting about the Star Forge."_

_At his words, Malak perked up. "What? What is so interesting?"_

_"The Star Forge - there's more to it than using it for building mass armies of construction. It creates life. Feed it anything, and it will give you the necessary materials: air, water, carbon, even life itself!"_

_Malak continued to glare bleakly at Revan. "So? How is this important for our Sith empire? All we need, and all the star forge is for, are the necessary tools of destruction."_

_Revan sighed behind his mask. "You are blind,_ apprentice.  _This knowledge is power. This machine, no, this_ force _is power for the taking. But...it destroyed the Rakatan people. It's dangerous..."_

_"We already possess this power you speak of. it has glorious power that will make us strong. We should not cower from it!" Malak gestured towards their army and ships. "Can you not see below us, Revan? Or are you the blind one here?" he retorted. It was a challenge, she realised. A challenge made by the lowly apprentice. She could remember the Sith, the dark lords who sought only power and dominance, and their ancient 'Rule of Two' doctrine. There could only be one Sith Master and one Sith Apprentice. One would eventually have to kill the other in order to gain the higher mantle, and Malak was taking the first step_

_What a fool._

_There was a long, tense pause between the two men. She waited._

_Suddenly, there was a blinding flash of red and white, and a light hum that tore through the deathly silence. Before she knew it, Malak was trapped against the railing, and Revan had dropped the datapad and ignited his lightsaber. The glowing blood-red blade was hovering a centimeter above the side of Malak's jawline. She could faintly smell the vile aroma of singeing hair and flesh._ Malak's _singeing hair and flesh. The blade inched ever so closer. A cry of pain, and then it was gone, diffused, and back on Revan's belt. What fast reflexes..._

_When she looked back at Malak's face, a vicious burn was searing across the length of his jaw. His grey eyes were fearful and burning with pain, but his mouth was set firm in a line, and the muscles around his eyes were relaxed. He was making an effort to appear strong in front of his master, but those eyes and the way his hands shook, betrayed him._

_Revan spoke menacingly; a warning. "Next time, your whole jaw will be cut off, and i'll no longer have to listen to that insufferable tone of yours_ ever _again. Understand?"_

_Malak's head quivered into a nod, his grey eyes now burning with an old hatred._

_"Now, get out of my sight, Apprentice, and treat that burn of yours before we head off to our next base. For now, I still need you in top condition for our operations. But that could change."_

_Malak's narrowed eyes were fixed on Revan, his left hand covering the burn and grey cape flowing behind him with every heavy step he took. The door slid to reveal only darkness on the other side. He stepped in and was enveloped inside, seemingly gone out of existence._

_Now what? she thought._

_Her gaze drifted back to the Sith Lord, who had turned and bent his knees for the discarded datapad._

_In the next second, the datapad was sailing through the air and landed squarely in her palms._ _He had thrown it to her, and she had caught it._

_Revan chuckled, which she though sounded extremely odd coming from the mouth of such a dangerous person. "I knew my senses hadn't been lying." He rose and advanced to her, a threatening hand reaching out and grasping at the air. "There_ was _someone here, and it's you, of all people. Just my luck," he said lightly. "Well then, now that my idiot and brash apprentice is gone, I can at last talk to you."_

_"W-what? How...?" She could only stare at him, study him. How long was he aware of her presence? How could he see her when no one else could? What was so important about him and this Star Forge?_

_Revan raised both gloved hands to the edges of his mask, and lifted. The mask was clipped to his belt awkwardly, like it didn't belong there, and Revan raised his head._ _When she saw his true face, and when his eyes caught hers, she trembled._ _"Who are you?" she whispered. She drew away from the dark entrails of the Force beginning to encircle and engulf her. They were going to trap and corrupt her; she could just tell. "Who am I?" Taking another step back met the smooth wall, but it was rough too, with it's minuscule dents and grooves. She tried to focus on the wall, or the Sith troops, or her breath. Anything but his voice..._

_"Remember, Bastila Shan."_

_And she did._

* * *

**Terribly sorry for the hiatus i've been on, but i'm (sorta) back now. I've been concentrating on other things like school and art, so writing has been pushed to the side a little as lesser priority.**

**I've got a million ideas for oneshots i may do, and for the next chapter, so keep posted!**

**don't forget to review this chapter**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: KotOR belongs to it's respective owners**

* * *

The Jedi Masters of the High Council of Coruscant and of the Dantooine Enclave paced back and forth, their paced footsteps echoing in the tranquil room. The medical bay was empty but for the Masters and a battle-worn patient that lay slumbering in bed.

"Has she yet shown any signs of consciousness?" one asked.

"No." The twi-lek healer looked up grimly, the tips of his warm orange lekku dulling. "I'm afraid there's a high chance of her never waking up at all. 'Stuck in comatose', if you will. Her wounds are healing nicely though, thanks to the Advanced healing trance she entered. I'd expect a full recover from three to four weeks if she wakes up." He turned to the medical bay exit. "Closing time is at sixteen-hundred hours today, Masters. I suggest you leave soon. My team and I will work on further scans of Padawan Shan tomorrow morning."

"Thank you, Master Healer."

The orange twi-lek bowed in turn, clasping his hands together and humbly lowering his head "It is always a pleasure, Master Jedi," he said in turn, exiting the room, the door sliding shut behind him.

"What is becoming of Bastila Shan? Could her condition be related to Revan's recent capture?" asked Master Zhar, casting a worried glance at the Padawan.

"Most likely, yes," said Master Vandar. The shorter, yellow-green skinned Jedi, reached up to offer his hand, which grasped a datapad. Zhar took the datapad with light fingers. His eyes quickly scanned the datapad as his lekku became paler and paler. "This says..."

"Oh, give it to me, Zhar. You obviously can't continue on reading." Master Vrook opposite him barked impatiently. The wrinkled, cranky old Jedi summoned the datapad with the Force, ignoring Zhar's objections. "Tch." He cleared his throat. The other Masters tilted their heads and ears eagerly, all but Vandar and Zhar. Vrook cleared his croaky throat again. "Now," he said, "Er...it's...a medical report on Revan?" The Jedi Master's heads immediately turned to Master Vandar, the original holder of the information.

"Vandar? What is this?" Vrook demanded. "Why did you have on you a medical report detailing Revan's brain activity?"

"Because - Vrook - according to the scans, Revan's mentality has suffered an inconsiderable amount of damage. Almost his entire being has been wiped clean, save the fragile fragments that Padawan Shan melded."

"' _That Padawn Shan melded_ '?" sputtered Vrook, who whirled shock. "Vandar, are you implying that Bastia went  _inside Revan's mind_?" Several other Masters wore the same expression of disgust and shock.

"It is possible. And it is likely."

Master Vrook barked roughly at Vandar, his face slowly turning a bright shade of red and pink. "Do you not know what this could mean, Vandar? If it is true that Bastila ventured deep inside Revan's mind, who knows what she was exposed to! That padawan could have fallen for all we know, or at the very least, be carrying traces of the Dark Side within her. That cocky padawan has always been brash and impulsive-"

Vandar interrupted, swiftly bringing the heated conversation to a calm. "I believe that Bastila Shan and Revan have formed a connection somewhat resembling that of a Force Bond. If this is true, then the Council could use this to it's advantage." These words encouraged the other Masters to blabber back and forth with each other, like they were a group of confused mynocks.

"A Force Bond?" one whispered.

"How's that even possible? The Padawan and Sith Lord have barely spent a day in each other's presence," another questioned.

Vrook shifted. "Are you sure, Vandar?" he hissed. "Are you entirely sure? Is there no other explanation for the catatonic state they are both in?"

"Yes," said the shorter green Master. "The Force has guided me to this conclusion: Revan and Bastila Shan have formed a Force Bond; a very strong, but unstable one."

Master Dorak stepped in with a calming, sensible voice. "Nevertheless, we should use this Force Bond to our advantage. If at all possible, Bastila could decipher the workings of Revan's mind, and his Sith Empire. There must be some secret weapon that of which the Sith are exploiting, located in an unknown region." He tugged on his dull brown robes. Drew a breath. "The number of Sith armadas and armies produced came seemingly out of nowhere. If we unveil this secret weapon, we could prevent the further creations of such devastating armies."

"I agree with Dorak,"said Master Zhar. "Stopping the Sith should be our first priority as Jedi; the defenders of justice and peace. Bastila Shan would become a great asset to the galaxy."

There was a brief moment of mumbled agreement amongst the other Jedi Masters, who moved their lips with glazed eyes.

Taking a step forward, Vandar strongly spoke."It is decided then, that by the will of the Force, we shall use Bastila and Revan's Force Bond to shatter what remains of the Sith Empire! We will take the former Dark Lord and use his mind against him!"

* * *

 _It all came rushing back to her, like she was standing underneath a waterfall. She was breathless as images, sounds and words flashed across her mind. Memories, she realised. Her eyes widened._ _"Revan!" Bastila said, at last regaining her senses. "Get away from me, you Sith!" She raised her fists, ready to ward the Sith Lord off if she ever need to. Bastila couldn't shake it off - the Mandalorian Wars, her Jedi training, the boarding of Revan's flagship...Oh, where in the galaxy was her lightsaber!_

_"Bastila," said Revan. "Bastila, i'm sure you are very confused at the moment..."_

_"Where am I?" she demanded hotly. "What is this place? You should be unconscious, your mind damaged beyond repair! Why are you here now, donned in your Sith robes?" Everything was disorienting. She couldn't think straight. Too much activity, too much confusion. Everything was just too much._

_"If you were quiet like any ordinary Jedi, little brat, I would tell you."_

_Bastila sputtered. "Little-little brat!"_

_The unmasked man turned heel swiftly, his long dark cloak trailing in the air. His back was turned to her. The man's back was turned to her...Like the Sith Lord couldn't care less for a little brat. Bastila struggled to drench the fires lighting within her. Revan was trying to make her give into anger; to turn her. She must remain calm, and listen to the Code...'There is no emotion, there is peace.'_

_"I know what you are thinking, Bastila."_

_She started and stared at the cape that faced her. "Are you reading my mind now?" she snorted humourlessly. "How are you doing it? Is this world some form of your consciousness that I was subsequently dragged into?"_

_"No, i'm not reading your mind. Such a power has yet to be bestow upon me. But yes, this world is my subconsciousness - or whatever is left of it, anyway."_

_"That is not possible."_

_"It is."_

_"No." Bastila recalled her experience inside Revan's mind, as she had roughly pieced its fragile fragments together. There was absolutely none of his personal identity left that could have resurfaced without the touch of a Master Healer. Absolutely none. It was simply impossible that this world was part of his mind._

_Revan turned back, his blue eyes piercing hers sternly."It is."_

_The way the man said those two words with such certainty awakened something in her. She could feel a presence that lurked in the far corner. It was reaching out, grasping her hand, and sending forth strength and truth. With a gasp, she recognised this presence as if she had known it all her life._

_A pair of black gloved hands extended to grasp hers, enveloping them. "Can you feel me? Can you feel my touch?" Revan's entrancing voice seemed to echo, filling every part of her body._

_"Yes." This presence in her mind was Revan's own. "Yes." This was indeed his subconsciousness. "But how?" she asked._

_"I would have thought you had already known," Revan said with a hint of a smile. "Didn't the old crackpots at the enclave drum it through your poor brain? 'Anything is possible through the Force'. Although, you have always struggled to become the Jedi others expect you to."_

_Bastila snorted. "A Sith Lord shouldn't be the one patronizing me on that subject."_

_Revan chuckled, and the cheerful sound made her warm all over. Surprised, but warm. "Your right, of course, but don't fear me or my antics. The Light and Dark have no meaning in here. This world is simply my being; my identity as an insignificant inhabitant of the vast universe and whatever may lay beyond that."_

_"Then why, pray tell, are you dressed as a Sith Lord, and the world takes the form of your weapons factory?"_

_Revan tilted his chin, as if to survey an exotic jungle full of life. "Because this is the peak of my personal discovery. This world represents my time of glory."_

_Bastila was taken back, obviously disgusted. "This is your time of glory? A time where you destroyed lives, entire systems? How could you find this to be the most glorious time of your life! You were a great man before the wars!" She should have known that deep down, the brilliant man before her was just vessel of darkness. He had done many things to prove that, first by defying the Council and they ways, and foremost by becoming a dangerous and deadly Sith Lord of ruin. Bastila could almost feel tears welling up in her eyes for a man who could have been so much more. "All that I see before me is materials of mass destruction, and that includes you." She wrenched her cold hands from his thick gloved ones. Bastila briefly felt her cheeks redden at her childish actions._

_"Bastila." Revan sighed. "Well, i shouldn't have expected any less accusation from you. Nevertheless, I suspect you trust me somewhere deep down in that stubborn heart of yours."_

_"I've at the very least decided you will not harm me while in here."_

_"Good." With that, Revan briskly walked towards the door Malak exited through earlier. His voice echoed off the metal walls with loud clunking footsteps. "Now," he said, "enough of this pointless banter. I have many things to tell you of."_

_The Padawan's interest was at once perked, and for the first time she was eager to hear more of Revan's smooth voice. "What things?" she called out. She smoothed down the tails of her robes then ran to catch up. The door connected to a never-ending hallway that branched off into many doors. Some, she noticed, were locked with keypads. Bastila walked beside Revan, her gaze flittering over the endless walls._

_"You must have overheard my..._ conversation _with my idiot apprentice Malak. Therefore," Revan continued, "you now know of a factory called the Star Forge, on which we are currently standing in right now."_

_"Indeed. You were proclaiming that it was more than just a manufacturer of weapons, but of life. You also said it was dangerous - an accusation that Malak did not take lightly. Revan..." Bastila paused. "Who were the Rakatan people? I've never heard of such a people in all the books and data i've read back at the Temple of Coruscant, be it a simple legend or not."_

_" The Rakatan people were a great civilisation that built conquest, but they were corrupted by the Star Forge, brought down to nothing but a primitive species. It was their greatest flaw." He stole a glance down his shoulder. "You should heed my words Bastila. The Star Forge is dangerous. Such power is hard to control, especially in the hands of fools."_

_"Then will you not fall from your summit as well?"_

_"No. Unlike the Rakatan people and Malak who seek only to use the Star Forge as a weapon of destruction, I am using it to strengthen the Republic against a greater threat; the True Sith."_

__Bastila whirled. Revan wasn't destroying the Republic and bringing ruin? The destruction he had caused was to, instead, strengthen and build? It was almost impossible to imagine a threat more dangerous to the galaxy than the man before her. "Don't make me laugh, Revan. You're a Sith; an enemy of the Republic. How can you be strengthening them when in reality, you are pillaging their defenses?"_  
_

_"As I said, there is a greater threat that has yet to come. The Mandalorian Wars have been all but a ploy; a distraction for the Republic and its forces. Perhaps even the Jedi Civil War, right under my very nose. All of this conflict has been to hide the underlying purpose of the True Sith; to hide a fate worse to come. You must understand that I am not the real enemy here."_

_She still didn't trust him, the monster. She'd listen to what he had to say though, for now. "Who are these 'True Sith' you speak of? Some cast off Jedi who are revelling in some dark tainted cave on the Outer Rim?"_

_Revan ran a hand through his rugged dark hair. "No," he said. "No, these Sith are far worse and dark than any puppet the Jedi have faced before. Listen carefully. I suspect that the Jedi have further plans for me and whatever is left of my identity. They'll want to use the Force Bond you forged between us, as a bridge between you and my mind - it's the only logical resolution."_

____"Wait," Bastila faltered, and would have stopped in her tracks were there not a busy cleaning droid behind her. She spoke hoarsely."A Force Bond? With you?" As she continued her voice rose, growing higher and higher. "Will you not influence me with that darkness your mind has collected? Infecting me like a disease!"___ Kriff, she thought. The bond must have been forged on the bridge when i entered Revan's mind. It must be very strong...and that's why i'm here in this world and...oh kriff kriff kriff kriff!_

_"KRIFF!" she exclaimed._

_"My, how un-Jedi-like of you, swearing your mouth off," Revan chuckled. Bastila's reply was a mere grumble, then mutters under her breath - no doubt the Code as an attempt to calm herself. "Anyhow." Revan's voice darkened, and Bastila glanced up to see his eyes harshly set straight ahead and unwavering, like he was glaring down the silver wall at the end of the hallway. "This Force Bond may allow you to extract some of my memories, which you can use to find the Star Forge. Once you find it, do not use it in any way. Destroy it. Do whatever you must to do that."_

_"Why-"_

_"So that it may never be used for it's power again. It shall never harm the galaxy again. Most of all, the True Sith will never get their hands on it. The Star Forge feeds on negativity - the Dark Side, making the Sith formidable and almost nearly indestructible.' Revan spoke through gritted teeth, jaw rigged. "_ This _is why, Bastila. This is why you must listen to me. Destroy the Star Forge. Use whatever memories of mine that you and the Jedi may recover. Many of them will surely prove useful." He took a deep breath. Let it out. "That is all I can tell you, Bastila."_

_His words struck her like a tuning fork. She knew he was right. It was that simple, yet so hard to believe that this man had done bad, yet meant for good."Promise me this then, Revan, and only then may I comply to you." Perhaps she could make a compromise. It was the more cautious and wise choice of action that she should take as a Jedi Padawan._

_"I'm listening."_

_"You will not turn. You will not harm lives again. You will do good through other means - without the aid of darkness. The mask you wear will once again become a symbol of hope, instead of despair."_

_There was an uncertain pause, and Bastila could see Revan's eyes. She saw the way they glistened and sparked, yet were hesitant. For a moment she was dashed, eyes cast down, succumbing to the surely dead reality that Revan could not change his ways..._

_"Alright. I promise," he said smoothly._

_Bastila's widened eyes flew up to stare into Revan's own stoic ones. She flustered when he stared back, and shied her eyes away. It was decided then, she thought hurriedly. The terms were set. She would keep her end of the agreement - there was no greater service than defending the galaxy from the Dark Side. Bastila nodded to Revan as confirmation, which he took likewise. "Then I will destroy the Star Forge, when the time comes. I will use our Force Bond and what little remains of your identity as an advantage."_

_Revan's serious facade slowly melted and his mouth upturned in a grimance. "Although," he breathed out. "The task won't be easy. It definitely won't be easy. Not for you or me. Not for anyone."_

_"I'll do it, Revan," said Bastila, jaw set. As her hot blood pumped through her body she could feel the steady beat of her pulse that urged her to move, to act. "No matter how hard or tough, I'll do it. I'll make sure you never fall again, and if your former identity resurfaces instead of destroying it I shall do my best to guide it into the way of the Light."_

_The tall dark-haired_ _Sith Lord suddenly and abruptly stopped in his tracks. Turned to the Jedi Padawan. Took a deep, elegant, flawless bow. His unmarked black and magenta robes fell as he bent, head inclined with respect. "One day you'll become a great and powerful Jedi Master, Bastila Shan, despite your overly stubborn and impulsive nature. I just know it."_

_Bastila gaped at him. A Sith Lord was bowing down with respect...for her? She scoffed, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. "And how exactly do you 'just know'? The Force, i suppose?"_

_The man rose and leaked a grin, chuckling one last time. He looked charming, almost. "A man's gotta trust his gut feeling, little girl."_

_Mustering all her Jedi training and self control, Bastila managed to brush off the snide 'little girl' remark off of her skin. To her, Revan shone in a new light. This was not the same fallen man she had confronted on the bridge with her strike team. Nor was he the man she saw at the courtyard of the Dantooine enclave, shining amongst the sun and grassland as words rolled off his tongue. This man was not Darth nor hero. What she saw standing in front of her eyes was the core of both. This man was simply Revan._

_At this thought, Bastila smiled and her heart lightened, if only every so slightly._

_She clasped her hands in front of her lap and gave a single nod to Revan. "Thank you," she said gratefully. "Once again I reassure that I will not fail in the task I must do."_

_"I sincerely hope not."_

_And Bastila caught a final glance at the unmasked Revan before the world faded into nothing. Those blue eyes who gazed back at her would remain etched in her mind and memory._

____" _ _ _ _May the Force be with you," she murmured._____ _ _ _

* * *

Bastila mumbled in her sleep, tossing and turning. "Revan?" Her eyelids were closed and mouth slightly pouted. It was the whispering that woke her, eventually. Her eyelids slowly fluttered open and Bastila found herself gaping into the concerned eyes of a short, familiar looking alien. "Master Vandar?" she whispered weakly.

"We are all very glad you are back with us, Padawan," another, smoother voice said. She also recognised this.

"Master Zhar? Are all the Masters here?" Bastila glanced around her surroundings. White walls. Plain beds with white sheets, identical to the one she lay in now. Medical equipment and scanners scattered all over the room. Polished, unmarked floors that humbly flared white. It blinded Bastila, and worsened her already dizzy and pounding head. "I think..." she gasped, sitting upright with her tangled brown hair flying. "Revan," her voice demanded laced with throbbing pain. "Where is he? Is he still alive? How is his mind? I want to see him." Suddenly she doubled over, breaking into a fit of coughs, some bringing up blood. Her trembling hands came up to try and stem the flow of saliva and red liquid as the coughs racked her body. A sharp pain exploded in her rib area, so sudden that she almost screamed. Master Vandar lent a helping hand, handing her a towel to clean herself. Oh, how embarrassing this was!

Shuddering, Bastila lay back down on her side and faintly heard the sound of heavy, rushed footsteps. Doors opening and closing. She felt unwanted hands touching her, patting her. She needed to get the hands off. She needed to see Revan, to destroy the Star Forge.

It was so hard for her to breathe, though...hard for her to do anything...

An orange-skinned twi-lek came into view and shooed the hands away. He wore white robes and had a calming aura in the Force that eased Bastila's sharp pain. A healer, she recognised. "Lie back down, Padawan Shan," he said. He placed his hands over Bastila's chest and she felt the Force swirl around her. Her breathing became easier. "We don't want to aggravate those wounds of yours. You've a fractured rib and a damaged pair of lungs, as well as obtained several major bruises. You are malnourished and need to get your strength back up. I suggest you relax. Don't raise your voice or make any sudden movements. Please, rest and take some time to heal."

"How long have I been unconscious?" she said, looking up into the Healer's dark eyes.

He whipped out a datapad and tapped a few fingers onto it. "You've been in a catatonic state for approximately eight days six hours and fifty-seven minutes."

Bastila's eyes ogled the twi-lek. "Eight days six hours and fifty-seven minutes!"

"Don't raise your voice!" the healer hushed urgently.

Vandar spoke up. "Bastila, please relax. We will deal with Revan and his mind. Your wounds will heal soon enough - we've applied kolto and you were subjugated in a healing trance since the destruction of Revan's flagship. The Dantooine and High Council will discuss matters later. For now, rest. You have done well, young one."

She almost sat back up again with happiness. She was being praised! After years of not being able to measure up as a Jedi and being looked down upon by others, she had at last achieved something of worth! It was a step closer to Knighthood. A step closer to ridding her of any imperfections. Bastila thanked Vandar, keeping her tone calm.

After swallowing a few pills that were pressed into her hand by the orange-skinned healer, she closed her eyes. They said that the pills would relieve what pain she felt. "Thank you, Masters; Master Healer," she said once again as they left the medical bay.

* * *

But in her sleep the pain came back. There was no stopping or relieving the nightmares that would haunt her forever.

She saw death repeated everywhere. Over and over and over again. Waves of bodies dropped to the stained floor bearing smoking blaster and lightsaber burns. The revolting stench of burnt flesh filled the air and spread like a plague. The screams and cries echoed down the bloody halls, never to be silenced.

Worst of all, there lingered the cold embrace of a friend who would never come home.

And she cried for all who had been and will be lost.

* * *

**i'm actually not sure how much longer this story will continue on for. give me your thoughts, readers! - do you think this story deserves another chapter or if it can skip straight to the epilogue?**

**i dare you to type in the review box.**

____ _ _


	10. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: KotOR belongs not to me, but to its respective owners. now read on and enjoy the final chapter!**

* * *

_:Dantooine Enclave: e _leven months and twenty-eight days after the capture of Darth Revan:__

_..._

The nightmares still chased her in sleep at the darkest times. She knew they would never truly disappear, as she quickly discovered. It was getting easier for her, though. Easier to accept death. Easier to kill. That was what a Jedi strived for, wasn't it? The Jedi sought to wrought out all emotion and passion, so that they could not feel remorse, love, or guilt. They trained to be passive droids in order to protect people who burst with anger and fear.

And Padawan Bastila Shan wanted to become one so badly, her heart ached. She disciplined every muscle of her body to bend to her will, as she had done so in the past eleven months and counting: nearly a solid year of burying her grief, and putting on the facade of the Jedi she should be.

A month after the Padawan first woke up in the Halls of Healing, she was released from care, and at once began to immerse herself into the Force; to try and find peace in the turmoil and stress that surrounded her. She found her confidence and built her strength on that, aiming to grow and develop stronger and stronger. Her determination and will prevailed through her struggles, as they had for years, and she managed to keep her emotions at bay and continue her training as per usual as time passed on.

Bastila trained to become a great Jedi, so she would be able to tame Revan. Bastila had drilled it into her mind: ' _There is no emotion, there is peace'..._   _I must stamp out my imperfections, so that I may continue training as a Jedi, and so that I do not fall as Revan had and can instead guide him._

It took some time for Bastila to craft the new lightsaber. She ventured to the old Kinrath caves as she had done so many years ago to retrieve another yellow lightsaber crystal. Her focusing crystals and lenses took the longest to find, but among the very rare she found ones of quality, strength and endurance, which would reflect back on the lightsaber and herself. Bastila based the hilt design to be similar to her old one, with a few new touches here and there to improve the smoothness, and the elegant aesthetics.

With this new lightsaber, she would spar and best anyone who raised their blades against her, and her fighting capabilities heightened. As a Sentinel, she also practised her use of computers and Force powers - activities which served to calm her from her tempered nature. Bastila feel herself becoming stronger and stronger, and hope and pride surged through her like a power source she could feed from.

Master Zhar seemed to take to her nicely. Although she never had the chance to do it for real, he instructed her on the necessary holds of a Force Bond; the dependent time period in which they lasted, the severity of them, the types of connections that could flow through them. Thanks to him, she was also able to apply this knowledge to enhance her connections and stability when performing Battle Meditation.

Master Vrook was no different from what he usually was. He would constantly criticise and reprimand her for 'having a sloppy technique' or 'fidgeting during meditation'. If he had said anything different, though it would've been nice, Bastila would have truly questioned if whether she were dead or alive.

Master Dorak was the quietest one, who stood by silently, hardly approaching her, nor she to him.

Lastly, there was Master Vandar, who also provided wise and useful advice in a calm voice that Bastila would eagerly respect and give thought on.

However, she could not fend off the cautious looks all the Masters discretely gave her as they watched her progress intently, nor the feeling that her will was wavering everyday as she laboured, and the darkness was creeping closer to her soul.

"Bastila Shan has always been a complicated case," one wrinkled face would speak. "Much in the manner of Revan."

And this was the reason the Jedi Masters kept a close eye on her activities and forbade her from seeing Revan during his mind wipe and recovery, for they feared she would fall and become another Sith; and become seen as another one of the Council's mistakes. When came the time for the funeral pyre of Bastila's fallen strike team, they - particularly Master Vrook - feared that she would react out of grief and anger unlike a Jedi, but like a Sith.

* * *

The funeral was hastened, as the Council had many plans ahead for Revan. It was a quick, brief ceremony, and none stayed for very long but for Bastila, the former Commander of the fallen team. There were no bodies to burn. There was nothing to cremate as proof of their existence. Nothing, at least, but Bastila's memories and pain, which refused to drift off with the black-grey smoke produced from the pyre. It would only become boiling and bubbling with the fire. Bastila carefully contained her emotions though, in front of the Jedi Masters.

"Tonight we honour the fallen," said Master Vandar, as he stood at the foot of the fire. "The heroes who have sacrificed their lives for a greater cause - a sacrifice that has not been in vain. Thanks to these brave men and women of the strike team, the galaxy will no longer have to suffer under the throes of Darth Revan. May the Force be with them all, as it guides them into the flow - into the Force itself."

Bastila cast her eyes downwards, lowered her head, so that none may see the devastation behind her cold facade. Yes, the team's sacrifices had not been in vain. In the end, the Jedi Council had captured Revan, and were in the procedure of temporarily wiping his identity. But in the end, she was the one who failed them all. Bastila had been their Commander, their leader. All results of the mission reflected her own actions and skills in turn. If only she had been a better leader - a better Jedi -, there would have been more survivors.

All those who had died had lives of their own. Friends and families and experiences of their own. The Jedi may be an exception, but not the Republic soldiers, who valued their own thoughts and emotions, who had worldly and exciting lives. Bastila could not expel her nagging guilt. Not even with the help of the Force and the begrudging acceptance of her comrades' deaths.

She would never forget her outburst in front of a shocked Anyara on Revan's flagship. How she had confessed her hatred of being pulled and stretched with strings all her life, like a marionette. How she recognised this as a flaw in her ultimate goal - to become a Knight, and eventually, Master. Sure, Bastila had been exposed to an immense force of dark energy at the time, but that darkness had brought out the terrifying truth within her, and the scariest part was that she had been so close to accepting it.

So when the numerous Masters were not turned her way, Bastila could not help but shed a tear as she stood hooded in the dark, her dull blue-grey eyes reflecting the cold orange flames of the pyre.

* * *

Now, as the young woman lay sprawled on her hard bed in the dead of night, she was a fluttering bundle of hopes and doubts, just like on that day when the next stage of her life began. A day when she was surrounded by her comrades and allies, and her old friend. Now, Bastila was alone in her plain, humble room. There was no such grandiose mission, or the feeling of empowerment and glory, without someone beside her to share it with.

Tomorrow would begin yet another stage of her life. Tomorrow she would step foot on board a Republic cruiser almost exactly identical to the one she had laid eyes on almost a year ago. This time she would be alone, entrusted with a great secret that even the Jedi were yet aware of. Bastila supposed she had Revan on her side, though. She could only wait and see.

* * *

_:The Endar Spire: the day following:_

_..._

*"Commander Bastila Shan, please report to the Higher Command Conference Room on Deck 2, Room 190 at 1300 hours,"* a woman's monotone voice spoke, emitted from Bastila's comlink. Bastila glanced at her chrono in despair. Kriff, she was going to be late! She scoffed. Two steps into the Endar Spire, and she was already making bad impressions to the other personnel.

"I'll be a few minutes late," she said reluctantly. "Please start the meeting without me and fill me in later." With that, Bastila closed the channel and began her run for the elevator. She weaved and dodged through crowds of men and women dressed in red, yellow and black military uniforms, all who looked at the young Jedi rushing through with puzzled faces. Panic and stress surged through her as she continued her climb to the second deck of the Republic Cruiser. Bastila felt there was  _no way_  she could have looked even more foolish and stupid.

When the padawan finally arrived at the door, she took a moment to smooth down her robes and brush back a few strands of her brown hair. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the primp and proper conference room. Bastila heard the room quieten from it's previous grumble, and felt each pairs of eyes as they stared at her through the bright lighting. Some were sympathetic. Others, curious. Some calculating and even accusing her cynical, which Bastila thought was absurd, though not untrue. She cast her grey eyes around the room with an unconcerned facade. noticing an empty seat at the end of the table beside a tall man with rustic brown hair who wore a burnt orange jacket. Bastila walked stiffly and with a straightened back, unfreezing herself from the nerve-racking stares. The sitting officers gradually went back to their muttering conversations, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Sitting into the vacant chair, she leaned over to the man beside her. "What did I miss?" she whispered.

"Actually, the meeting hasn't started yet. We took the courtesy of waiting for our esteemed and talented Battle Meditator and Commanding person. Now, we just wait for the holo to load up." His deep voice had a cautious tone to it, like he were suspicious of Bastila, or her circumstances. She was transferred last minute with her team of Jedi after all - of course it would seem unusual. The man extended a hand to her, which she shook. "Carth Onasi," he introduced.

"Bastila Shan," she replied likewise.

"I'm sure you've read my service records before you arrived."

"Yes." Bastila had indeed read Onasi's service records from the Republic files the Jedi were allowed access to, but had never seen a holo-pic of the famous soldier and pilot. "You've done and achieved much for the galaxy in your services."

"Likewise, Commander. I have to say, defeating the malicious and deadly Darth Revan is quite a feat. I'm surprised the Jedi haven't knighted you yet! Or have they done so recently?" Carth's words sounded genuinely warm to Bastila, who flinched inwardly at the question.

"No, but thank you," she said. No, the Jedi still had yet to Knight her for her efforts as Padawan. Whatever she did all these years never - even defeating the Dark Lord Revan - she could never seem to please.

 _A Jedi_ _should not harbour negative feelings,_ she thought, closing her eyes.

Carth nudged her. "Hey, Bastila, you awake? The holo is up. Can't have the Commander sleeping in on this."

Bastila's eyes snapped open and she averted her eyes from corner of the room to the image being projected across the table's surface - a map of the route the Endar Spire was taking.

A grave voice spoke. "Alright, if I may have all your attention, officers?" A stern, middle-aged woman with hair streaked grey, whom had Bastila identified as Admiral Jiin, rose from the chair across the table from hers. This woman was the highest commanding officer of this ship, and Bastila immediately straightened in her place. She must appear strong in front of the others...

"Our core objective," the Admiral continued, "and this ship's only mission, is to safely transport Bastila and the Jedi accompanying her to this sector of the quadrant." A finger pointed vaguly at an area just to Carth's left. "There we will rendezvous with the rest of the Jedi Battle Fleet in time to intercept the enemy - the Sith's invasion fleet - above the planet of Taris. We are here." The Admiral's hand moved right, but stayed relatively close to the area she had pointed at before. "The Endar Spire is currently in the safe zone away from the Sith Armada, however, as we journey further to our destination a chance may arise when we are ambushed by the Sith. Our battle stations and units should be well prepared and ready for any surprise attacks.

"Now," Admiral Jiin said, slapping a hand on the table and making the holographic map flicker. "When we join the rest of the fleet we will immediately engage with Malak and the Sith Fleet. This is when Commander Bastila Shan will step in and begin her Battle Meditation. Her guards must be with and protect her at all times and at all costs. Shan's Battle Meditation is key to this war. We cannot lose this valuable ability and skill." The Admiral turned to face and eye the young Jedi who sat pressured across her. Admiral Jiin stressed her next words out. "We cannot lose  _you_."

Nerves struck Bastila as Admiral Jiin continued to stare the former down, and she simply sat there quietly and waited as the meeting droned on. All the while fidgeting with her fingers under the table.

* * *

The meeting and debriefing session was at last adjourned and Bastila's gears were whirring crazily by the end of it. It was much different from the debriefing before Revan's capture. First there was the initial objective and plan, which Bastila was no stranger to. Then battle strategies and formations - which she was also familiar with. Shifts, meals and sleeping arrangements quickly followed after, and a clueless Bastila could only watch as experienced officers handed out printed papers and called out room numbers and ambiguous time slots.

Bastila let out a deep breath, her body drooping in tiredness. She mumbled slowly. "I think my quarters was on Deck 3, Room..." Bastila trailed off into a pause. Well, frack.  _Now I don't even know where i'm sleeping._

"The data should be uploaded into the records on your datapad, Commander," said a smooth voice from behind her.

Bastila turned to see the owner of the distantly familiar voice and froze. A sudden coldness swept over her like a gale, engulfing her. There stood the man formerly known as Revan, casually standing like he belonged in the Republic military life. She hadn't seen him in so long, it came as a shock. The tall, dark-haired man looked into her eyes, and the two both waited for the ice to be broken. Bastila's gaze cast over the light armour he wore and the two sheathed vibroblades he carried on his back. She almost expected him to draw a hidden red-bladed lightsaber from his belt, and for his eyes to turn yellow and sadistic.

Bastila swallowed with a dry throat. "Thank you," she said, breaking the silence and tension with a brisk and rushed voice. Bastila thought she had been prepared for this. During her training she had run her head through the necessary details - what his new name was, his occupation; his new life - but she could never be prepared to take on a conversation with the man. What was she supposed to say? What should she do? What did the Masters expect of her? As strange as it sounded things would've been so much simpler and easier if he were still the Sith Lord, and she his enemy.

He'd try to turn her. She'd refuse. They'd fight to the death. The end.

But there was no longer a definite structure or plan. Bastila was no longer this man's enemy or confidant. So what was she? A leader? A comrade? A friend? It would be dangerous to become too attached to him, but at the same time she must be close enough to able to watch over and guide him along the journey, to ensure that his memories did not return for as long as possible.

"I don't believe we've formally met," he said. "I'm-"

She cut him off by shaking her head, relieved that his tone was welcoming. "No need to introduce yourself. I've read the files before boarding this ship, and i'm sure you know me already, as well."

"You catch on quickly." Former-Revan cast his signature cocky smirk that always gave Bastila the urge to roll her eyes blatantly. She could see his initial personality hadn't changed much since the mind-wipe. He was still the same cocky, arrogant, charismatic man he always would be, though those attributes eventually led to his eventual downfall - some of which Bastila shared.

"We Jedi like to come prepared in any situation." Ironic words, coming from her own mouth.

"I see." The man flashed an old grin at her, which lit up his handsome features and blue eyes, adding almost a sense of playfulness to his character. "Well, I'll be seeing you around, often, since i'm your part-time bodyguard and all that. And," he raised a finger, "we'll be sitting in the same boat for a few days. Glad I could help you out."

Bastila could only nod in agreement. After Revan's mind-wipe, the Council had reprogrammed him the new identity of a battle-worn soldier highly skilled with the sword as a Jedi was with a lightsaber, and assigned him to be one of Bastila's personal bodyguards, in order to keep the former Sith Lord close to Bastila's watchful eye. Initially she was nervous of the close proximity she would be with him, struggling to keep the secret of his identity and their conversation in his subconsciousness from both Former-Revan and the Jedi. There was a chance, after all, that the Force Bond could go both ways, and he could access Bastila's memories as she could his own. That would be a real screw-up, indeed.

"Yes, that blatantly makes sense," she replied. Bastila looked up to his salute - a tradition the Jedi never incorporated. The man's salute was reminiscent of his bow to her so long ago, and all her fears were dashed away with that one act, her heart filling with hope once again - hope for his life.

"I take my leave now, Commander." Former-Revan made a show of straightening his back, tilting the corners of his mouth, and furrowing his eyebrows into an exaggerated stern and solemn expression. _  
_

Bastila nodded with arched brows and spoke, chin tilted and matching his level of formality. "Until we meet again shortly, Aedyn Varn."

Then the Jedi and former Sith Lord who were neither enemies nor friends parted ways, and Bastila was finally able to roll her eyes indignantly in hidden sight. She stared at his strong, armoured back as she watched him take each distancing step. Aedyn Varn was now the Republic's - the Jedi's - hope. A hope for victory over the faction he was once a part of. Bastila couldn't afford to think anything else. So when the quiet voice inside her spoke, it's whisper met only to deaf ears.

" _That man,"_ the voice said,  _"Whoever that man is; Revan, or Aedyn. That man is an undoing. Both of you, and himself."  
_

* * *

_:The Leviathan: four days following:_

_..._

The view from above was strangely beautiful. Peaceful, too. Onlookers would see the undisturbed planet of Taris. Most knew the cities of Taris were populated with shady people. People who would murder, and lose themselves to their desires by use of drugs and alcohol. From space though, the beauty that was once represented could be seen again, through rich colours of blues and greens and shades that seemed to glow.

Normally, one would stop to admire such a view, and lock it away in memory as a priceless treasure. However, the only eyes that met that sight were the eyes of Darth Malak and his pawns in this game. It was a simple game of hide-and-seek. Malak was 'It' and Bastila Shan was the concealed player - the person he was to find at any costs. His prey would only need a slight push in the right direction... To Malak's left from his view, a reasonably sized Republic Cruiser lay midst the aura of Taris. That red and white plated ship was his target.

As Malak touched the side of his cybernetic jaw - a painful gift from his former master - he leaned into his tainted hand thoughtfully. His main goal was to capture Bastila and turn her, or eliminate her; if he couldn't have her power, no one else could. Assuming the Padawan had the brains, she would launch in an escape pod and land on the planet Taris. There, Malak would quarantine the Sith onto the planet's surface and corner her. If she stayed on the dying ship...well, he didn't have any use for a corpse.

"Admiral Karath," Malak said through his vocabulator. "Prepare to board the Republic cruiser escorting Bastila Shan. If at all possible, bring her to me -  _alive_."

Saul Karath bowed to his Lord Malak, then walked briskly to the front technicians and barked sharply, "Get the boarding parties and fighters ready immediately! Hack into the enemy's communications and cut off all primary functions including it's distress code! Stabilize our primary shields and weapons systems! Target their hyperdrive and prepare for firing!"

While the worthless workers scampered around busily, Malak could only look down with humour. The mere anticipation and adrenaline of this encounter made his blood boil. When all systems were ready and his pawns had assembled, Malak focused his sick eyes on the beautiful sight he would soon raze with his hate and anger.

"On my command, focus fire on the enemy's hyperdrive," Admiral Karath said, raising an arm. Tense seconds passed. Then, with a systematic swoop, Karath's arm fell as he yelled, "Fire!" On the word, all of the Sith's fighters and blaster bolts were launched out into the black void called space, homing in on the unsuspecting Republic cruiser below.

If Malak could, he would've smirked, but the pleasure he took could be easily seen in the malicious glint his eyes reflected. Now, the game had begun.

_Come out come out where ever you are, Bastila Shan._

...

Fin

* * *

**To continue this story, begin gameplay of bioware's and lucasarts', 'Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic'. have fun! (and go dark side; you get more creds that way)**

**...**

**PLEASE READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE BELOW. I WILL GIVE YOU A COOKIE AFTERWARDS! (embrace the dark side - we have free cookies!)**

**this last chapter was mainly to wrap things up and explain what bastila and the masters were doing for that one year timeskip, what the mission of the endar spire was, how revan was doing, etc. it also brings the story full circle to the game.**

**thanks to all the people who took the time to review my story in it's slow progression! i can truthfully and gratefully say that it has helped me improve my writing greatly. this is the first story i've done and i feel i've gained much experience from this.**

**...**

**ahem, so hurrah, the story is at last finished! at first my main focus was just a little of fanfiction testing and i thought a oneshot would be fun to do. but then i thought: 'hmmmmmm, i wonder how bastila and her strike team captures revan? what WAS the strike team? what obstacles faced the team as they boarded revan's flagship? what was the confrontation like? -** _**WHAT THE FRACK HAPPENED BEFORE KOTOR?!** _

**as far as i was concerned, there was no official and detailed information one could simply search up about these particular pre-kotor events, so i took it in my own to write my own interpretation and showcase it online.**

**so i ask again for people to review this story one last time. was my interpretation of pre-kotor realistic? was it jumpy, were the characters in-character, was it evident that i was not a grammar nazi, or was the entire story a piece of useless and disgusting crap? i beg you readers - give me your honest thoughts on the story and your advice and suggestions if able to.**

**...**

**if anyone was wondering, revan's new name, "Aedyn" is pronounced "eye-din". however, im not entirely sure how to pronounce "ae" as it is soooo complicated. if anyone here undoubtedly knows how it should be correctly pronounced in this context, please mention in your review below.**

**...**

**so again, thanks to all. come again. bye bye. i'm off to bed now... -_-**


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